My Nubian Passion
by BreakingBadFanatic21
Summary: After a close call against the formidable Michonne, Merle somehow can't get her out of his thoughts. He's apprehensive but enthralled with the exotic swords woman. To Michonne's shock she realizes how much Rick and company needs him. And despite her denial she begins to acknowledge how she needs him. (A strictly Merle X Michonne story. Rated M: language and intense scenes).
1. Chapter 1: Want

**I do not own or claim to own The Walking Dead or any of its concepts or characters**

Certain events are altered, but overall I tried to preserve each character's personality. (Just go with it people! :P)

Merle begrudgingly made his way back to Woodbury after getting his ass handed to him by Michonne. Not only was he going to have to explain the loss of his men to the dogmatic Governor; he'd have to explain why he hadnt come back with her head.

"Shit. That bitch can really go," The pretentious Merle muttered, rubbing at his aching groin. "And I thought I could get roll in the mud dirty," He shook his head as he walked the path back to Woodbury. He was still pissed. Michonne was an annoyance to him more than anything. However, he did as the Governor asked. Though he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of her going toe-to-toe with him. He couldn't recall having a decent brawl like that in a while. Merle did his share of fighting and drinking, but he was also a survivor. Taking orders from a little pretty boy would suffice if it meant surviving and living to see his baby brother again.

The trip home was unusually calm, not many walkers. They were either gunned down or migrated elsewhere, which suited old Merle just fine. The sun slowly began to set, the air was crisp but not relaxing. Small beauties such as that couldn't be forgotten. After the grueling walk Merle finally made it into town, minutes before curfew. The Governor dutifully stood under a nearby streetlight a few feet away from the front wall; waiting for him.

"Well?" The Governor inquired impatiently, his arms folded.

Merle sighed, running his hand over her face. "She killed the men I had with me and put a hurtin' on me."

His eyes widened in dismay, a smirk appearing on his face after. "Is she that tough?- -" He inquired.

Merle chuckled. "Well- -"

"That you, Merle Dixon, my right hand cannot take out a lone woman?" The Governor asked, irritated.

A coy smile appeared on Merle's face. "Well, the bitch is made of spikes and barbed wire."

"Enough of your good ol' boy routine!," The Governor hissed. "Bring me that woman tomorrow or i'll have Martinez on the job."

"The beaner?" Merle asked in amusement.

The Governor sighed.

A raspy laugh escaped Merle. "I'll get fresh on her trail tomorrow morning." He replied, walking to his apartment. "Huh, I guess the good ol' Governor ain't too fond of my sense of humor." He said with a laugh as he made his way into his apartment. He shut the door and immediately fell onto his plush mattress. His apartment was of meager means, barely the bare necessities but that did Merle just fine. He was a survivor. A bed, bath and kitchen sufficed. He reached under his mattress, snagging a Playboy magazine. A big grin appeared on his face as he flipped open the flimsy pages of the playboy. "Have mercy," He mused, licking his lips. "The only thing I hate about havin' one hand is that I can't rub one off while I'm holding the magazine-"

Suddenly he jumped up at the sound of shattering glass. "What the hell- -?" He looked in the kitchen and saw Michonne staring dead at him, her sword drawn. He laughed. "Oh, it's you. You must not be too bright! Breaking into this fine town where the Governor wants your head on a pike."

"You must not be too bright," Michonne retorted coldly. "Being the right hand to a man who doesn't respect you."

"Just what the hell do you know," Merle retorted, walking towards her and staring down her sword. "Sweetheart?

"Darryl misses his big brother and Rick could use another hand. We all could. Think about it. Similar interests."

"Put that toy away and we can talk then." Merle said with a wink. After their previous encounter Michonne didn't trust him.

"Not a chance." She scowled.

He chuckled, quickly swatting her sword away with his right arm. He lunged for her, unsuccessfully as she kicked him back; knocking him on his ass. He huffed. "My Nubian queen, I"m a lot of things but I can't hit a woman directly. You come here to talk and you draw your sword on me," He said, putting his hand on his hip. "I'm tryin' to be somewhat of a gentleman."

"Bullshit." She hissed. "I'm only here on behalf of the group. we need more muscle."

"Oh? Do you like what you see?" He inquired playfully, flashing his trademark grin. Merle was an arrogant son of a bitch. But despite his prejudices he was still a red-blooded male with physical needs and desires.

"Don't get your hopes up." She scanned the bare room, cringing as she saw his PlayBoy magazine.

"What? You women are so stingy even though this world has gone to shit," He huffed. "Who doesn't want a farewell fuck?"

"Disgusting." Michonne said, repulsed.

"Well maybe you wouldn't be so uptight if you'd get some." Merle teased, licking his lips

"That should be the last thing on anyone's mind." She muttered as she rolled her eyes.

"Why's that?," He inquired, walking towards her. She backed up against the counter, her sword was on the other side of the room. Hand-to-hand combat was a must. "Survive and live for today, right?," He asked, gently pushing her back against the counter. Each of his arms were on the side of her. He was so close to her but she didn't flinch. "Shit. You're as cold as ice," He mused, gazing into her vacuous brown eyes. He firmly grasped her arms, feeling his urges build. "But you can bet your sweet chocolate ass that I can warm you up." He said softly into her ear.

She flinched at his boldness. Surely he wasn't afraid that she would gnaw off his nose or side of his face. She wasn't a walker, but she was feral and combative. He sensed it; hell, he relished in that. "You're the racist, degenerate redneck, am I right?" She asked,

"Oh, I have quite a reputation, huh?" He snorted in a sense of false pride.

"Yeah," She mused. "The inbreed redneck that tried to kill everyone up in Atlanta."

He paused, taken aback by her words. "Did Officer Friendly tell you that?" He probed, looking her up and down. He faintly remembered his PlayBoy; how he hadn't had a woman in so long. But come on, she was a black woman. Fucking a tree stump would be more practical.

"People talk," She replied coldly. "Doesn't matter who."

He snorted. "Well aren't you a sweetheart, protecting the little chicks from big, bad Merle."

"That's not so, those little chicks need your expertise." She went on, looking him square in the eyes. As imposing and intimidating that Merle could be she hadn't budged.

"Enough of those little chicks," He said softly, his southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "Why don't you tell me something good, sweetheart?" He cajoled.

"Okay," She whispered, leaning into his ear. At that moment he could feel it, his slow and hot desire building. "Should I kill you now or later?" She asked sweetly.

"That talk kinda turns me on..." He mused. Merle was hot and bothered and didn't mind the knock down drag out fight.

She immediately headbutted him, his staggered back. He saw red but didn't do anything about it. "I"m in the mood for somethin' else besides fightin'," He paused. "Though both acts are akin."

"Drop dead, will you?" She spat, turning her nose up at him.

A part of him liked her callousness, however; a part of him loathed her authority to deny him. Without warning yanked her into his arms. He registered the sensation of her body against his. She squirmed and fought his embrace, she was pretty strong too. But he was stronger, he would assert his male dominance and make her want him. He wasn't the candlelight and dinner type. He wanted what he wanted, and when he wanted it. In his mind he had no problem with getting a woman. She nearly hissed as she kneed him in the stomach and grabbed her sword. "I knew you were a racist prick, but I didn't know that you were a rapist."

Rapist? That word pissed Merle off. "No. NO. I'd never- -" He paused, staring down at Michonne's katana once more. He was insulted that she'd even think that, he had just touched her, not taken her. He was a lot of things, but a rapist wasn't it. despite his ruthless tactics and degenerate ways the thought never crossed his mind. The thoughts and desire to touch her was alive and well. But Merle Dixon would feel no pleasure or sense of manhood from raping a woman, it was no point in it.

"You sick bastard. Do you like this?" She sneered, taking notice of his arousal. She caught herself admiring the masculine bulge in his pants, her mouth watered as she realized that she hadn't done it in a very long time; probably like him.

"You like to stare, huh?" Merle asked, raising his brow in intrigue.

"Not at a racist, inbreed redneck." She spat.

"You must want this racist, inbreed redneck's cock in your wet pussy," He winced as he acknowledged his body's reaction to Michonne's presence. "There's no shame in that." He said, his voice low and primal.

She scowled. Damn. He could sense it, he was a damn hound after all. "How about I kill you?" It would be best if she just thought about killing him. Not the size of his cock, or how he tastes. He probably tasted like chewing tobacco and regret for all she knew. It would be best if she didn't think about his sturdy body, the view of it underneath his clothes- -

"And have my beloved baby brother on your sweet, chocolate ass?" He mentioned in a matter of fact way, his thin lips fixing into a wanton smile.

She shrugged. "It would be worth it. He's not as tough as you," A smirk appeared on her face. "Besides, your blood supply is only one way," She added, rubbing the cool metal against the bulge in his pants. "You will be way easier," She paused. "I'll enjoy killing you."

"You're in my house, in enemy territory...," He muttered. "And you are going to attempt to kill me." He chuckled.

"There's no attempting," She shot back coldly. "I will."

He sighed, shrugging out of his shirt. "I"m not fittin' to fight you," He paused to get a quick look at her. "Not fittin' to rape you neither," He assured, expelling any type of preconceived judgement or fear on Michonne's part. He pushed his dirty white tank-top over his head. Women had teased him all his life, but this one was easy to read. They were alike, outsiders. But more importantly, they were both hot and horny. One touch from him and that chocolate bunny would melt. "How about we help each other get off?"

"Go to hell!," She snapped. "I'm no prostitute." She was fuming, her hotheadedness was going into overdrive.

"If I thought that you were a prostitute I'd only ask you to service me," He corrected. She cooled down immediately. "I said that we could help get each other off," He flashed his sadistic smile. "You black gals must not be all that bright."

Shit. Merle did look delicious standing there, his chest was bare and strong. There was no mistaking. Merle was the predator, wanton and brutish and she secretly enjoyed it. His top half looked amazing, she could only imagine what his bottom half looked like. She ignored his little backhanded comment.

"Come here, girl," He demanded, grabbing her and pulling her to him. "Now are we gonna fight or are we gonna knock some uglies tonight?"

Michonne scowled and slapped him in the face, he fell back with a thud. "Surely I should let a man as articulate and as graceful with words as you be my fuck buddy." She said in annoyance, not wanting to give in to his crudeness.

He stood up. "Shit, that hurt..." He mused, clenching his jaw. Merle certainly did have a way with words, he wasn't foreign to those types of reactions.

She looked back at him as she opened the window. "I'm too grossed out to kill you at this point," He watched her intently. "But it's your choice whether or not that you want to come back with the group."

He flashed his trademark smile. "Well I wanted to come with you tonight but you won't let me."

She rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Merle." She said, then making her exit out the back window.

He snarled as he watched her go. "That bitch broke my window," He snorted. "I'm definitely gonna make her black ass pay for that." He muttered, running his hand over his face.


	2. Chapter 2: Yearning

She left Merle in the dust. His pride was a little hurt but he, being the persistent son of a bitch that he was probably wasn't going to give up on the mysterious Nubian beauty. Previously her presence may have made his skin crawl but he couldn't deny her beauty. Though he was pissed about his window.

"The uppity bitch never seems to smile," He sighed. "And I'm the son of bitch that can't stop." He put his tank-top and shirt back on. Maybe he should have worded that sentence a little differently. He shrugged. "Welp, time to jerk off- -," He heard a knock on the door. "Yeah?"

"It's me." It was the Governor.

Merle immediately opened the door, letting him in. "Welcome to my humble shack."

The imposing Governor made a small look of disapproval, before fixing his lips to speak. "I need to talk to you about Michonne." He finally said, getting straight to the point.

"What about the little ball buster?" Merle inquired with a wide grin, sitting on his bed. He snorted forcing the smile away, then gesturing the Governor to take a seat.

"I rather not," He replied, clearing his throat. "I can figure out what you do there." He said as he turned his gaze to the PlayBoy magazine.

Merle chuckled nervously. "Oh, that? That's nothin'." Actually, it was everything. The poor son of a bitch hadn't been laid since before everything went to hell in a hand basket.

"Anyway, I think she is in route to the prison again." The Governor mentioned.

Merle's interest piqued. "What does that got to do with me?" He asked, folding his arms.

"You're going to clean up your mess," He said with a confident smile. "You have another chance."

"To kill her you mean?" Merle inquired, already knowing the answer to his question .

"Yes," The Governor sneered. " I'm certainly not not sending you to bake a cake with her." In all reality Merle would love to do more than that. "Be my inside man for a few weeks in that prison, then make your move." It would probably be in Merle's best interest not to let the Governor know about Michonne's little visit. It would do him great pleasure to see her blood, more so to see her body.

He nodded. "Alright then, consider it done." He replied, seeing the Governor out.

After closing the door he fell back on his bed. He shut his eyes, slowly drifting in and out of sleep. All he could think about was her. Damn it. She was laughing at him in his head. Shit. Her laugh was infuriating but so arousing. That damned woman was taunting him in his dreams."Where the fuck am I-?" He looked around. An island? "The fuck is this?" He barked, looking around. His eyes widened as he looked down at himself, realizing that he was clad in a white tux with a black dress shirt and red tie. "What the hell kinda outfit is this? This aint me..." He looked up at the bright sun. "Did I kick the bucket?"

"Merle." She breathed.

Chills ran up his spine. He looked and saw HER. She was dressed in a white dress that hung beautifully off of her slender frame. The contrast of the porcelain wite dress on her deep, beautiful skin was divine. "Holy shit..." He muttered. "Where am I- -?" He nearly had a heart attack realizing that he had both of his hands.

"You're with me." She replied with a warm smile, a smile that he had never seen before.

"Are we dead?" He asked, his voice low and uncertain.

She shook her head. "This is your fantasy, isn't it?" He was speechless as she walked towards him. "Will you rip off my dress and take me now?"

Well fuck. He must be dead. "Where's your sword?," He inquired. "Will you cut off my dick?" He went on. He was on guard. She was beautiful and gentle, surely this was a prelude to him getting a knife in the heart, or dick.

She laughed. "I don't need my sword for you, you can't hurt me." She replied confidently as she placed her hands on his chest. Damn right he couldn't. He was too enthralled with her. Shit her hands felt nice.

He flashed his typical feral smile. "So what, you'll let me- -?"

She nodded.

He put his hand to her face. Against his judgement and skewered beliefs he kissed her. Her lips were so full and soft, she tasted...different. Exotic. Sexy. He felt so light and calm. Surely this was a dream. She would let him have sex with her. But why couldn't he go through with it? What kind of dream is this? The cruel sick ones where you're there in the moment but then again youre not.

"Don't wake up," She said softly. This WAS a dream, he was himself but he wasn't. This was a dream, because in real life he would have had her in the nearest bed when she asked. "don't wake up, country boy." She said with a wink.

"Son of a bitch..." He groaned, falling out of sleep. He laid in bed, shocked by his dream. He was sweating, hot and bothered; painfully aroused. "Fuck." He breathed, unzipping his pants and moving his thumb up and down against the glistening head of his cock. "I thought I was done with wet dreams..." He tore his hand away from himself. "No," He groaned. "No black women. No," He groaned. "Especially not HER." That's what he kept telling himself. But fuck, he wanted her. She was strong enough to take whatever he could give her, knowing how to respond to his smart ass and how to kick his smart ass. He licked his chapped lips and grunted, wanting to ignore his hard cock's reaction to the dream and thoughts of her. He wondered if she could take him sexually, let him enter her and fuck her hard like he wanted to until they both came.

He desperately wanted to cum, but not in his hand or on the floor. Shit. Enough of thoughts like that. He zipped up his pants, realizing that he wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night. He figured that he might as well head out soon. He took a look out of the broken window, courtesy of the lovely Michonne. He had only laid his head down for about an hour, it was still dark of course. He was wired and high off of adrenaline and that dream. It was a sick joke. But he loved every minute of it.

He left his apartment and walked down the sidewalk, the roads were desolate thanks to the Governor's curfew law. Only soldiers could be out and about, mainly manning the walls of the town. He saw Martinez in the distance sitting on top of the wall, sniper rifle in hand.

"Let me through!" Merle demanded, walking towards him.

"Well excuse the fuck outta me," Martinez said with a laugh, jumping down from the wall. "Did the governor croak and give you merit to bark at me?" He asked, raising his brow.

"I'm going after that woman," He proclaimed. "So are you gonna let me through or not?" He spat, then pausing. "And don't worry your pretty little head off, it's your beloved governor's orders." He said smugly.

Martinez fumed at Merle's tone of voice. He hoped that crazy bitch would kill his ass. He shrugged. "Go on, it'll do me a favor when your ass doesn't come back."

Merle didn't respond, only climbing the wall and jumping it. It was hard to say if Woodbury was even his type of town. On nights like this old Merle could only think of one thing, the soft touch and feel of a woman. The wind was still and only the soothing sounds of nature could be heard. The pilgrimage to the prison was turning into a leisurely stroll. No walkers, again. Maybe that prison attracted them from miles, he faintly remembered that his baby brother Darryl was there too. That damned Officer Friendly too. Maybe he'd kill his ass first, then T-dog...then that nerdy chinaman. No. Brother first, pussy second, revenge third. He chuckled to himself. Right.


	3. Chapter 3: Fixation

Rick stood in the guard tower, scanning the area. His eyes were dull and weary, having the displeasure of witnessing many atrocities, as other survivors have. He must have aged 10 years because of the stress and the weight of the world that he carried on his buckling shoulders day after day. Thank God for Darryl and Herschel. Darryl was his right hand and Herschel was his spiritual counselor and group healer. It was peaceful at the moment, minus the small crowd of walkers congregating at their front gate. Rick squinted his eyes against the blaring sun, resting his rifle against his hip.

He snapped out of his peaceful trance after hearing a deep yell coming from outside of the gates. "What in the- -?" He paused, picking up his sniper rifle and honing in on the disturbance. One look and he nearly crapped his pants. "Merle?" He swallowed hard. He was alive, minus that one hand. He was as strong as ever too, bashing the walkers' heads in left and right. Should he shoot him on sight? No. Darryl is in the prison too. Damn it. This could be trouble. His blood rushed to his feet when he saw Merle make quick work of the walkers, then taking notice of him in the far off tower.

He smirked. "How about you let your ol' pal Merle in?" He yelled back at him with his hand on his hip. THat phrase reverberated through the courtyard. Oh yeah, it was Officer Friendly. The dick who handcuffed him to that pipe. Revenge would be as sweet as Michonne's fine ass.

Rick saw Darryl running down the courtyard, then stopping in his tracks. He saw Merle a few yards away behind the gate. "Merle?" He slowly said.

Merle flashed a quick smile. "Who else is it gonna be, baby brother?"

"Darryl, don't let him in!" Rick yelled down from the tower. He was scared for everyone's safety, there was no way that- -

"Come on man!," Darryl muttered. "this is my brother, I can't leave him out like that."

Michonne awakened from her nap, quickly jumping up. She could hear commotion from the courtyard, maybe the front gate. She grabbed her sword, slipped into her boots and sprung in action.

"Michonne, is there a problem out there?" Hershel asked, putting down the bible he was so diligently reading.

She paused. "Not sure...but if there is I'll take care of it." She assured.

Hershel nodded, turning his attention back to his bible.

Michonne raced out to the courtyard, stopping abruptly. A smirk appeared on her face. "Well if it isn't the friendly neighborhood redneck..." She teased.

It must be his lucky day, not only can he see his baby brother; but he can see HER. "Hey, my jungle princess!" He cajoled, flashing his feral smile.

Darryl paused. "Jungle Princess?," He scratched his head. "What the hell?"

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "That's your brother's way of saying hi to me."

Rick made his way down from the tower. "What? Michonne, you've met him already?"

"I told him to come here."

"Why the hell would you do that?!" He asked, exasperated.

"We need all the muscle that we can get," She replied. "We've lost too many people to be content with our current numbers

"Look, Officer Friendly, as much as I wanna beat your ass into the ground I'll play nice," He said, his gaze straying to Michonne. "I only want to be close to my baby brother."

Rick scoffed. "Well, you two," He said, gesturing to Darryl and Michonne. "You two are going to be the designated babysitters."

Merle chuckled, licking his lips. "Fair enough."

"Open the gate." Rick said. "And no funny business."

Michonne walked over to the gate. She slowly opened it.

"Nice place you have here," He said discreetly. "Where's your cell?"

"Stop with the small talk, Dixon." She muttered.

"Don't act like you don't know me," He said, his voice low. "considering how much you were eying my dick yesterday," He walked past her. "I'll deal with you later, girl." He turned his attention to Darryl, giving him a brotherly hug, not before scruffing up his hair. "Officer Friendly didn't make you all soft, did he?"

Darryl shrugged. "I am what I am."

He snorted. "Right."

Later that night...

"Are you sure that Merle should stay here?" Carol asked, a bit uneasy.

"What other choice do we have?" Rick inquired, sighing. The fact that him and Merle weren't on the best terms was an understatement, but this was survival. Though the fact that whether or not Merle would help them survive would be up for discussion.

"I just don't want him around the girls." She murmured.

Darryl's ears twitched at that statement. "Hey! My brother ain't no saint, but he's definitely not a rapist!"

"I-I didnt mean it like that- -" Carol said. But she couldn't help being apprehensive. This was Merle that they were dealing with.

Darryl scoffed. "Besides, he seems to have a hard-on for someone else." He hinted. The three of them glanced over at the other side of the room, Merle was chatting Michonne up; though she wasn't too thrilled.

"I thought that he was racist..." Carol said, very surprised at Merle's chattiness.

"Nah, men like him always have hard-ons for black women," Darryl replied with a chuckle. "That talk is how they keep it secret, ya know?"

Carol laughed. "Oh wow..."

Rick shook his head. "Well as long as they're not trying to kill each other." Merle and Michonne? Now that would be a match made in the apocalypse.

Darryl nodded, making his way to Merle and Michonne. "How ya'll doin' over here?"

"I was about to polish my sword." Michonne quickly said, pushing past Merle.

"Baby brother," He said with a sigh. "Now why in the hell would you do that?"

"Do what?" Darryl asked as he scratched his head.

"Get in the way."

He laughed. "You like Michonne?"

"N-Nah, never. She's just- -" He looked across the room.

"Mind your eyes, Dixon," She heeded. "If you want them."

Darryl chuckled. "Yeah, mind them eyes before you end up like the governor." Though that bitch had it coming to him.

"Shit," He said with a chuckle and snort. "I can handle myself."

"Like you did in the forest?" She retorted, clearly going for blood.

Darryl's ears twitched. "Whoa...she kicked your ass?!"

"Fuck no," Merle quickly said, smoothing his hand over his face. "Hell no," He muttered. "That black gal can tell some mighty fine lies!" He deliberately threw his voice across the room and perch.

She scoffed. "Whatever helps you sleep, Dixon."

"That black bitch." He said under his breath, very perturbed. Who in the hell does that lady think she is?! Just because she's in prision doesnt mean that she's safe, not from him. He snorted. "Hang tight baby brother, I'll be back in a little while."

"Hey man, you'd best leave her alone," Darryl urged, grabbing his shoulder.

Merle turned around and looked at a concerned Darryl. "Why?"

"She's strong. Real strong."

He shrugged. "So am I." He said, walking away. His temper burned hot as he remembered her kicking his ass in the forest; moreso after she mouthed off and exposed him just now. He made his way up the perch and walked past every cell until he saw her. She was changing with he back turned, he caught himself admiring her smooth back, she was topless. Her complexion was...different from his. Back home he'd rather gouge his eyes out than look at a black woman, her shape was slender from the back, borderline poor. She certainly needed to eat more. Her pants were still on, she was apparently putting on some lotion. It was a wonder that miss hard ass couldnt sense his presence. Maybe she'd get naked. He hadn't even googled any images to see what a naked black woman looked like.

She looked over her shoulder to slather some lotion on it and was stunned to see Merle gawking at her. She quickly grabbed her shirt, covering her chest. "What the hell do you want, Dixon?!" She exclaimed, addressing him as if he was a pest.

"To pay you back for showing me up in front of my baby brother!" He growled.

She laughed.

"Damn it." He said through clenched teeth. "You're a damn fool if you think that i'm gonna let your uppity black ass make a fool of me in front of my blood!"

"I'm so scared." She said, rolling her eyes. She was obviously paying him no mind. it burned a part of him up, but his cock began to stir and twitch in delight.

"You should be." He warned, hoping she wouldn't notice the hard ridge lining the side of his zipper.

"And how can I take a man yelling at me seriously when he's hard?," She retorted, turning from him and putting on her shirt. She turned back around, looking at him with intrigue. Shit. She did notice. Fuck. She noticed everything. For the first time in his life Merle blushed. She noticed his body's reaction to her...like everything else. Son of a bitch. He noticed her perky breasts from the modest covering of her tank top. "Up here." She demanded, moving her fingers up to her eyes.

Merle was all but hypnotized. She was certainly a woman of great beauty and strength.

"You're not racist," She challenged. "Just an old guy with a bone for a woman he can't have- -"

"Shut up!" He yelled, forcing her to the wall.

"Michonne?" Carol called out from the bottom of the perch.

"I'm alright," She said softly. "He's just being himself." She said cooly, looking back up at Merle. "Tell me what you want to say, this isn't preschool here," She smirked. "You don't need to pull my hair to get my attention."

He looked at her, his usually cocky expression on his face turned into scorn. She looked back at him, unafraid but amused. He was about to bust a gasket, how dare she make a fool of him...how dare she disregard him. "Tell you what I wanna say, huh?" He breathed, nearly going off the deep end.

"That's what the big boys do- -"

Without warning she felt his lips on hers. She struggled but then gave in to him. The idiot's body felt good. Hard. Masculine. Hot. His kiss was savage. unyeilding. Sexy...and so Merle. He tasted so feral, and so male. He tore his lips from hers. "I...want you in my cell later."

She chuckled. "Really now?"

He licked his lips, savoring her taste. "Now, I've never begged a woman. especially not a black woman."

"There are others."

"Whatchu talkin' about girl?" He asked, looking her dead in the eye. He smoothed his hand over her dreads and gruffly inhaled her scent.

"Other women."

He chuckled. "Shit. Carol isnt a spring chicken, that Beth girl is just a brat, and Mag or whatever the hell her name is with the chinaman- -"

"He's Korean." She corrected.

"I don't give a shit, point is there's no one- -"

"But me?" She said, automatically finishing his sentence.

He shrugged. "Well yeah, but besides that I'm the most well-endowed son-um-bitch here," He touted. "It would be in our best interests to hook up."

She scoffed. "What's in it for me?"

"I'll take care of your sweet chocolate thing if you let me." He cajoled, releasing her hair and touching the small of her back.

"You're a hypocritical ass, do you know that?" She scolded. "You're begging for a woman that you look down on," She shrugged. "I'm not a toy or a conquest. So drop dead already." Sure, his pseudo-racist disposition and grandiose view of himself was kind of endearing...in an ass-backwards kind of way. She took delight in knowing that despite his little comments and beliefs she could make him hot and bothered at the drop of a hat. Merle was handsome, but it was only that. And she would be damned if she would be addressed like she is a toy by any man. Especially a man like Merle Dixon.

He watched her storm off. He cursed, pounding his fist against the floor. "Fuck. Shit. I done fucked up." He shook his head. He quickly stood up, fighting the urge to pursue her. He shuttered, he actually had the desire to apologize to her. Him and her were essentially the same, ruthless and cold; the odd men out. She knew his type of struggle. But fuck, why did she have to be black?

**Let me know what you think of these first 3 chapters guys! I'm about 2 chapters ahead and I would like a little input on how the story is so far before I submit any more chapters. Any opinion is appreciated! Thanx, B.B.F21**


	4. Chapter 4: Respect

It was dinner time and Michonne sat quietly by herself across the room. Everyone was having small side conversations, but Merle barely cared about the surroundings. The voices and sounds were only background noise to him. All he could see was HER. All he could think about was HER. And damn it, he hated it; but he loved it. He wanted to cut her slow for being an uppity bitch; but he wanted to fuck her brains out for being a sexy Nubian goddess. He would be tarred and feathered if the good ol' boys could see him now, drooling over a black woman. He couldn't concentrate on eating. He was so horny, and just plain frustrated. Nothing he could do about it.

"Hey man, why you starin' so much?" Darryl asked, raising his brow. He noticed something peculiar about his usually rambunctious older brother, though he couldn't quite place it.

Merle barely heard him. "Wh-What?- -" He paused. "Nothin', just thinkin'"

Daryl snorted, shoving a spoonful of rice in his mouth. "That's a first." He replied, turning his attention back to his food. He knew that Merle was lying. It has something with to do with Michonne, he's been more tense, damn near climbing the walls when she's in the same area. After force-feeding himself, Merle went to retire for the night. Hell raising lost its' appeal tonight.

"Huh," Glenn said smugly. "I never thought i'd live to sit through a meal without Merle talking stupid..."

"Glenn!" Maggie whispered, nudging him.

"You'd best shut your mouth, chinaman," Merle yelled back. "Or else you won't live to see your little balls drop!"

Glenn said nothing, simply bowing his head towards his plate.

Michonne stood up and followed behind Merle's path. She was furious. "Hey." She said, wanting to get his attention. She was shocked to see him, reflective, nearly docile laying there with his hand behind his head.

His gaze didn't leave the ceiling. "What the fuck do you want?" He asked, his voice jagged and sharp.

She sighed. "Look at me." She demanded.

"Fuck you," He spat, turning away from her. "You're nothin' but a goddamn tease."

She began laughing.

"Just what in fuck's name is so damn funny?!" He yelled.

"I'm a tease." She repeated, not believing that statement.

"Fuck yeah you are," He breathed. "Leaving a man horny and frustrated," He scoffed, shooing her away. "Women like you ain't nothin' but trouble!"

"Look at me." She said again.

"Fuck no," He spat. "Girl, you'd best get out of here." He warned, his voice increasing in decibels.

He heard her boots shuffling towards him. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily. She was the last person that he wanted to see, but she was the first that he WANTED.

"Look at me, damn it!" She demanded.

"Get the hell outta here!" He sneered, dismissing her with closed eyes. He didn't want to look at her.

"Well damn," Darryl said with a laugh. "Never seen nobody get that big of a rise outta Merle before."

Glenn scoffed. "I hope she can tame that raging lunatic for all of our sakes," He paused. "Well except you, blood trumps everything, right?"

Darryl smirked. "I suppose...not sure what you're tryin' to say," He took a gulp of water. "Not that I give a rat's ass."

"There's enough tension in the upper tier," Herschel chimed in, wanting to diffuse the situation. "We don't need anything else."

Michonne quickly grabbed Merle by the shirt, his eyes opening immediately. He was pissed. Here she was in his cell teasing him with her presence . Then she had the nerve to order him to look at her, her and her beautiful dark skin. He grew an inch thinking about that. Fuck. Don't think about her. He wanted to think about how she humiliated him.

"Look at me, you fucking inbreed racist redneck!" She said as she grabbed his face with her hands.

He finally looked at her, flashing a look of scorn. Merle may have been an idiot but he was as sly as a fox, stubborn too. "What in fuck's name do you want?!" He scowled. " you got your fuckin' reaction-"

"I want respect where it is due," She said. "I have done nothing to you to get these reactions...therefore I'd appreciate being treated with decency." She couldn't deny Her attraction to him, but respect was everything in this new world, just like survival was.

La-dee-fucking-da. Decency she says. Respect she says. Who the fuck was she? Aretha Franklin?! Surely this woman recognizes who she is talking to. At least she should. No. She didn't give a damn and it had him as stiff as a dead raccoon with Rigor Mortis setting in. A lean little black woman puffing out her feathers and demanding respect. That jungle Princess was as dumb as she was sexy. The good ol' boys would've surely put her in her place, ran her out of town, or worse. He didn't have any hate in what little remnants that were left in his heart for her. He mostly had lust and intrigue, desire...frustration. All these emotions were rolled into one huge clusterfuck.

He looked at her and laughed. "Go on outta here, girl!" He jumped, feeling her hands smooth against his chest. The gesture was hated but he stood at full attention to her hands. He made a sound of contentment. "I said go on." He snarled, wanting to scare her.

"I'm not scared of you in the least, Merle Dixon," She replied, a bit annoyed. "But I would like you to calm down."

"Calm down, huh?" He replied, nearly taunting her.

"We need to work together," She said, ignoring his rudeness. Merle was just being himself. "but I want to make sure we're on the same page." She went on to say.

"You know...," He muttered, gripping her arms tight. "I'm tired of talkin'," Merle said impatiently. For a brief moment he gazed into her big, brown eyes. She was rough around the edges, just like him. He moved his other arm so that his prosthesis cradled her back. "So goddamn tired of talkin," He paused. "I just want..."

"What?" She asked, looking up at him.

His mouth became dry, his strong legs shaking like spaghetti. He was like a prepubescent boy. He imagined that if he was lucky enough to be graced to knock boots with her he wouldn't last a minute. Shit he wanted to kiss her. "I want- -"

He nearly had a heart attack when he felt her lips on his. Fuck he loved the feel of her lips. "Tell me what you want."

"I'm...tired...of talking," He said, his voice hoarse. He slowly moved his hand from her arm, turning his attention to her breasts. "So...fucking tired." He snapped, smothering her mouth with his. The kiss was everything. Pure electric. Merle could feel it from the top of his head, the tip of his dick, and to the bottom of his feet. Holy shit did he want this woman. The kiss was savage and needy, just like him. She moved his hands down his chest, she could feel her surging desire too. Her breasts ached, her nipples stood in acknowledgement of him, her pussy grew tight and wet. There was no doubt that she wanted him. "I want you. Not as a damn toy...," He paused. "I want you as a woman."

Progress, bitches. Progress.

Merle Dixon, the racist, sexist crude was putty in her hands. She moved her body against his, taking inventory of each and every inch of his sexy body. Nature certainly did a body good. His clothes were dingy and she could smell the faint scent of water, dirt and Earth. He could feel her undo his belt as he continued kissing her. By God he'd have this woman. He kissed her so deep, wanting to taste the depths of her being. She could hear the faint primal growls in his throat as his pants fell to the ground. He kicked them away as he continued kissing her. She rubbed against him, feeling what she's yearned to feel for so long. She reached down and began to rub his hard cock, quickly glancing at it. She hadn't been with a white man before, and never dreamed of taking up with a man like Merle Dixon. "What do you think?" He asked, showing vulnerability about his most intimate part.

"it's nice and thick," she replied as she began stroking it. "Perfect." It was 7 inches, cut. She couldn't wait to feel it inside her, she couldn't wait to feel him. He groaned and broke away from her, rubbing the bayonet of his prosthesis against her tank top. Without warning he cut her tank top up the middle, exposing her breasts in a dark purple bra. He tossed the mangled shirt aside and proceeded to skillfully cut her bra off of her back. She smiled. "Don't do that, Dixon," She warned. "You already owe me another shirt," she joked. "And FYI, bras are very expensive."

He chuckled. "Alright, gal," he said with a genuine smile. "Turn around and I'll take it off real gentleman-like"

She turned around. She froze as she felt his rough hands on her back. Was he massaging her? Was Merle Dixon actually being tender? Surely hell had froze. She moaned softly, despite having large, clumsy and homicidal hands his touch was gentle. Firm but gentle, giving. He gave her neck and back a few kisses, before turning his attention to her bra. "I bet ya that I can take it off with my teeth."

She laughed. His crudeness could be endearing at times.

He paused and took notice of her gentle laugh. It was different. It made him feel funny. "Just kiddin'...," He teased. "if you want them kind of tricks you might wanna go to a circus." He carefully unhooked her bra with his one hand. It fell to the ground and she turned to face him. Wow. A black woman's breasts. They were...nice, sexy. As sexy as a lighter pair. Damn those thoughts...and damn his feelings. She removed his shirt and began unzipping her pants. When they fell to the ground he was in awe, she was slender wth just enough curve to her. He was silent as she removed her panties. A low growl escaped his throat. Her pussy was bare, unique and so sexy. His nubian queen. Fuck yeah she was his.

"Let me taste you," He said, nearly begging. He didn't give a fuck at this point. All that mattered was HER. He pulled off his prosthesis, hoping that she doesnt look at it in disgust. He placed it on the floor. Without warning she grasped his arm, kissing the stump where his hand used to be. It was rough and mangled, but still a part of him. She explored her body with it, guiding him through her jet black dreadlocks, then her smooth face, chest and breasts. He closed his eyes, enjoying her tenderness to his mangled limb. He paused. This was them. Blow for blow in battle, tenderness for tenderness in romance. "You..."

"You think I'm afraid of it?"

He swallowed hard. "No."

She said nothing, simply laying on the bed. He licked his lips in response to her. She sat up, looking up at him. She drew him closer, pulling down his boxers. His hard cock strung to her attention, it lined perfectly with her mouth. She gazed at it, gently caressing it until she finally placed it in her mouth. His knees nearly gave out. Her mouth felt so good, so warm and giving, just for him. She slurped and licked him, taking him all the way in her mouth. She savored the salty taste of pre-cum oozing from his painfully erect dick. She licked up each drop. Damn, she gave the best head. He exhaled, tightly shutting his eyes. He desperately wanted to hang on to his control. Merle Dixon wasn't a minute man. Fuck no. Not with her, she deserved so much more. She deserved everything. "Another time..." He said softly, not wanting things to be over before they started.

He gently pushed her back down on the bed and spread her legs. Fuck she smelled good. Not like the jungle neither. She smelled like pure sex, woman. He was about to taste her, then possess her; there was no race. Passion and release was the end game for both of them. At this point in time he wasn't a white man and she wasn't a black woman. They were man and woman. He primally dove into her with his mouth, his abrupt movement made her moan. He wasn't gentle and she wanted it like that. He addressed her and treated her different, but the fuck if she didn't want want him to lay her out like a backwoods redneck man could. She spread wide for him, savoring the feel of his tongue massaging her clit. He moved his mouth up and down furiously, wanting his tongue to conquer her most intimate parts.

"Dixon...," She moaned, digging her fingernails in his scalp. He was so damn good at this, she could see the logic for his cockiness. She wanted to feel him inside of her. She moaned once more, feeling her release. It was quick, sharp and divine. He dutifully lapped up all of her juices. He sat up, eying her with that feral grin on his face. He was quite pleased with his handiwork. She didn't want gentle, gentle words were okay, but gentle sex just wasn't for her. "Show me how you backwood boys lay things down."

She laid back, flashing a "come-hither" look with her proud smile plastered on her beautiful face. He could see it in her eyes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. And he loved every fucking moment of it.

He smiled. The pleasure would be all his. "I'd love that."

**Don't forget to review, review, review! I definitely read them and appreciate each one I get! I'm pretty far along and it's not too late for me to edit! Though I have a pretty good idea of how I want Merle and Michonne's story to go. Input and opinions are greatly appreciated! Thanx, B.B.F21**


	5. Chapter 5: Hunger

**WARNING: EXPLICIT SEX SCENES. You have been warned...enjoy ;) **

"Come on, country boy." She enticed.

A painful blush claimed his face. For a split second he loathed being a white person. He could be readily analyzed. Country boy? She said that in his dream...unless...this was a dream. Shit. This could just be a cruel joke. If it was he couldn't let the opportunity slip away again. He had to have her, even if it was all ill fated.

She grabbed his face, kissing him roughly. The taste of his and her juices together tasted amazing. He nearly stumbled as his body made its way on top of hers. His body was weighty against her slender frame but she loved the feel of his muscles rubbing against hers. She also enjoyed the feel of his hard cock throbbing against her smooth pussy. "Show me how you backwoods boys lay things out in bed." She was egging him on and he loved it. Fuck yeah he would lay things out.

With a sudden strong thrust he hungrily claimed her as his own, he nearly howled as he experienced her for the first time. She was warm and tight, not like the loose skanks that he was used to. She shifted against him as her yearning pussy sheathed his hard dick perfectly. She let out a small moan against his ear. That was nothing less than Mozart to his ears. The pressure was nearly too much to bare. It had definitely been too long for her, as it was for him. She was certainly fine, on the outside and on the inside. His pumps were fast, hard and deep; just like she craved. He was an animal and she knew that he took great pleasure of having her submissive and on her back. She licked her lips and that gesture nearly drove Merle up the wall. She moaned softly as she clenched his hips tightly with her thighs. God knows she had some strong ass legs. She could kick like a damned mule, he'd know. But damn that was hot. She was hot.

She spread her legs wide for him as she raked her nails up and down his back. He quivered, then giving her butt a firm slap. She winced, taking everything he wanted to give her. She ran her hands down his back, reaching his firm ass. She scraped both hands against his ass cheeks. She was only turning him on even more. Apparently she was a master of non-communication as he was. Grunts and moans fill the air as Merle consummated his attraction for his Nubian queen.

He began slowing things down. "Yeah..." He groaned, holding the back of her tight with his stump while he grasped and dug his nails into her thigh. He plowed her slow and deep. "Goddamn...," He muttered, nuzzling his face against her neck. "Shit, you feel good." He grunted, raising his head so he could get a good look at her. He huffed, sweat forming against his brow.

"Kiss me!" She demanded. Soon his lips crashed against hers and their mouths waged war on one another. These kisses were strong, unyielding...hungry. Merle's kisses were primal and thirsty, Michonne's equally the same. Her hot kisses fueled his urges even more. He picked up the pace again, only faster. Her pussy felt so good, it was irresistible. It was everything. She could match him in every way. Fuck. She just had to be black, and she had to feel so damn good. Surely this was God punishing him for being a racist bigot.

She bit down on his lip and he gave her dreads a tug. He then put his mouth up to her neck, marking her with a series of hickies all down her neck. Without warning she flipped the tables on him, pinning him down. He flashed his feral smile and his cock pulsated in excitement of her being on top. "Well look at you, bein' all in control and whatnot." He teased, licking his lips.

"Damn right," She retorted with a half smile. "I have to keep your redneck ass in line." She joked.

He brought her face to his, kissing her. She looked down at the loudmouthed and profane bigot that she butted heads with on a daily basis. His face was flushed, with a hint of pink. He looked so non-threatening, a puppy dog under her pussy's control "You white men sure are interesting..." She taunted, then sighing in content, feeling each and every inch of Merle's cock fill her.

He fixed his mouth to say something but he faltered. Her pussy was too good for him to even sass her. He had no right. Pussy like this came once in a lifetime. For once the loudmouth was speechless.

"Nothing to say?" She inquired, teasing his hard cock. She moved her inner muscles in a delicious rhythm that made his insides churn in delight. He thrusted his hips upward to get in on her action. She smiled, grinding down on his cock. His face grew red, his teeth clenched in sheer ecstasy as he dug his hand into her dreads. She grinded up and down on his cock, each time raking her nails against his chest. She took her sweet time kissing at all of her scratches, making her way to his neck. She returned the favor, tenfold. He was marked now just as she was. She continued her sweet assault against Merle, riding him slow and sensually. She could see his face, his eyes shut and his lips forced together. She knew that he felt good...not that the ornery son of a bitch would admit that he was enjoying it.

"Fuck...," He groaned, opening his eyes as she continued riding him. "Why are you so goddamned sexy?"

"Silent Merle speaks." She mused very pleased with herself, and not missing a beat.

He looked up at her, realizing she had the reigns now. She had the key to his pleasure and to his frustration, and he knew for a fact that she would assert her full authority. He tightly gripped her thigh, fully admiring her at this angle. She was the same as any other woman...no, she was better. She was his match. He groaned as he felt her speed up, she grinded on him fast and deep.

He groaned. She was surely going to make him cum, that's what she wanted. She wanted to show him who the boss really is. "I can't fuckin' take much more...," He said, feeling the urge to cum. "You're such a fuckin' sadist," He went on. "You have to be!" All of his lip service hadn't ruined her rhythm, it was either slow, gradual and tortuous; or fast, quick and unbearable. He figured that he'd die of blue balls before the walkers got to him.

She smiled, slowing down. "Are you done?" She asked in a matter of fact way.

He scoffed. "You're trying to do me in, you little siren." He snapped, frustrated that she wont let him cum.

She said nothing, only planting a quick peck on his lips. He was putty in her hands. "If you play nice I'll make you cum."

Shit. The nerve of this gal. "Why would you torture a man like this?," He complained. "I wouldn't wish this on the most pathetic son-um-bitch...," He muttered. "But I have to say, the best pussy is always attached to a little hellcat." He said with a half smile.

"Well you enjoy it." She said with a smirk. But In all reality she enjoyed this. Using her womanly giles to bring him to the brink, only to cast him back to sexual purgatory. This idiot was as much as a man as any one else. A man can react to any woman, race or creed wasn't a factor. His hard cock and tense disposition was evidence of that.

He licked his lips. "Hell yeah I do," He sighed. "but fuck, I might have a heart attack dealing with you...you know I was nice to you and let you cum. Why torture me? Come on babe." He whined.

"You're kind of cute when you whine," She mused. She kissed him once more, letting her lips linger. She then sped up her movements. Merle groaned in pleasure, sitting up to caress her. The friction of her body against his was out of this world. He doubted if he could ever have a chemistry as strong as the one between him and Michonne. "Will you cum for me, country boy?"

His breathing grew hoarse as she continued riding him, he instinctively held her close. He was going mad. He was exhausted, frustrated and in nirvana all at the same time. Only Michonne could do that to him. Only my jungle princess. He thought, holding her close as he felt his impending release. She moaned, feeling her own. Her pussy tightened against his cock, ushering his own orgasm. They both stilled, Merle still holding her in his arms as he filled her with his hot cum. He thrusted his hips upward, emptying himself in her. The gesture and embrace were so primal and possessive. He gently kissed her neck and caressed her back. His spent cock was still connected to her, he didn't want to leave her body. This wasn't a dream. She was definitely his.

**I'll probably take a bit of a break from this story for a bit. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm obsessed with Merle X Michonne (don't judge me ;p). I'll most likely start working on another fanfic with the both of them, in addition to continuing/finishing this one. Thanks for the reviews!, B.B.F21**


	6. Chapter 6: Icarus

The next day Merle woke up with his African Queen beside him. Shit that was some good sex that they had last night. He had never been with a woman like her. She knocked his boots off and shut him up, that was a feat in and of itself.

To think he was so close to her but so far away. Why could she not be white? Then things could be easier. His psyche could barely take having an interracial tryst. As hot as it was it just wasn't right. Black and white should not mix. Black with black, white with white. That's how it should be. But fuck, he had never felt that alive in a while, kissing her and holding her...and screwing her was the best. "You stupid son of a bitch." He scolded himself. The taste of forbidden fruit is driving him mad, and if he pursues it any longer it would be the proverbial Icarus flying too close to the sun. He couldn't fly close to the sun. He'd have to leave her alone. But the fuck if he wanted to.

Icarus, huh? He scoffed, then watching her sleep for a moment. She even looked delicious when she slept. The jungle princess bought a smile to his face, not his smartass smile. But a content smile. Feeling himself getting soft he forced a scowl on his face. He didn't want these bitches in the prison to find out. To find out how soft he was because of HER.

He covered her up with a thin, black blanket and reached for his boxers and pants. He opened the cell and made his way down to the lower level. To his dismay he saw Darryl leaning up against one of the cells. He had a smirk on his face and Merle knew that he knew. Fuck.

"How was your night with Michonne?," He teased. Merle nearly had a heart attack. Were they that loud? "I could hear y'all gettin' it on."

He leaned in to his baby brother. "You breathe a word and your ass is mine." He threatened. It was as if he was the teenage boy being found out by a meddlesome younger brother.

He shrugged. "It's all good, I figured you couldn't stay away from her."

Merle stormed off.

"Where are you goin'?" He asked, following after his cantankerous older brother.

"To get breakfast," He said gruffly. "I ain't survivin' off no goddamn rice and asparagus." Merle loved to hunt, he was in his element when he was outside; no matter how dangerous it was.

"Want me to come too?"

"Nah, stay your scrawny ass here where it's safe." He said, with a chuckle.

"Man, fuck you..." Darryl sneered with a half smile. That's how the Dixon brothers interacted, no touchy feel good shit, just rugged men bullshitting with each other.

"Tell Officer Yankee that I'm gone whenever he finishes putting on his dress." It was obvious that he didn't respect Rick. The best way for him to not think about killing his ass was to think about himself being snuggled up with his Nubian queen.

Darryl shook his head as he followed him.

Merle looked back at him. "Where the hell are you goin'?"

"I gotta open the gate for you, dumbass." Darryl muttered.

He snorted. "Well you do that then, then keep your scrawny ass here."

"Whatever," Darryl said as he opened the gate. "Don't go gettin' your reckless ass killed now."

"Yes mother." He teased, making his way past the safety of the fences. Darryl laughed to himself as he watched him go until he disappeared from view. His older brother was something else.

Merle walked a few miles away from camp, deep into the forest. This was his home, even if it was being taken over by those creepy bastards walking around. After effortlessly killing 3 slow stragglers he turned his attention to the nearby stream. He wanted some fried catfish, the tricky sons a bitches were so slippery and difficult to catch though. But he smirked, seeing an asset that is attached to his arm. His bayonet will work to his benefit. As he began catching the fish he thought about her. What she liked. What she wanted. All that peace and nature air would do that to a man like Merle.

"I'm pussywhipped." He said with a sigh. There was nothing he could do. Nothing that he wanted to do. He wanted to catch some food for her. He snorted. That black gal was something, making him feel such a way and making him want to do shit for her.

Michonne stirred in bed, finally waking up. She impulsively placed her hand on the side of the bed where Merle was. He must've went out with Rick and Darryl. She slowly sat up. She was a bit sore, but she liked the feeling. Sex with Merle was amazing, they fed off of each other. It was truly opposites attract. She couldn't help but think about him. She shook her head, maybe she made the wrong choice last night. There was probably no choice of them coexisting peacefully now, not with the sexual chemistry between them. He was such a man; such a broad-bodied, crude and profane man but she...liked it. He was hot in a rednecky, backwoods type of way, and his feral smile was just...him.

She got dressed and began doing her diligent workouts. Her workouts were harsh but didn't require much space. She only needed an elevated surfuce and a semi-spacious floor. She caught herself thinking about that idiot again, remembering last night. she didn't want to think about him. She couldn't concentrate on working out.

Suddenly she heard footsteps and became alert. It was Merle.

"Hey." He greeted her, a primitive silver platter in hand with a few fried fish on it.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast," He muttered, flopping on the bed. "I gave Darryl some too."

"You bought me...food?" She inquired very surprised about his thoughtful gesture.

"Why not?" He asked, taken aback by her weariness.

She blushed.

He quickly kissed her, allowing his lips to linger on hers. Her eyes flew open and she felt that the kiss was tender and soft; which was unlike him. "Eat." He demanded.

"Thank you." She said softly as she began eating. Too bad there was no seasoning, but she took joy in eating the fish that he had caught for her.

"Yeah," He said gruffly. "Get your fill and I'll eat the rest." He watched her attentively and carefully.

"Why are you being so nice?"

"What," He asked. "I haven't been nice to you?"

"After last night, yes," She mentioned. "Otherwise you're an obnoxious crude."

"Shit, I'm nice to you...," He muttered. "In my own way."

"Okay." She said with a smile, taking another bite of her fish.

What was this? What were they? They made passionate, hot sex last night. Prior to his well anticipated release he thought that he'd die of blue balls. But really he might die from the sheer pleasure that Michonne can give and show him...not to mention, the emotional stress.

"You're not bad for a black gal." He proclaimed, looking into the air.

She nearly choked on her fish. "What?" A potential breakthrough? Maybe.

He chuckled. "Girl, you know you heard me," He replied with a cheeky grin. "I'm not the man to repeat myself."

"So admit it," She demanded, putting down the fish and folding her arms. "You like black women." She said in amusement.

He scoffed. This gal. "No."

"Oh really now?," She inquired, raising her brow. Merle paused, seeing that she took genuine offense to his response. "What was last night then?"

Fuck. She was the typical woman in some ways. That dreaded question plaqued many men for generations. "What the hell do you want from me?," He grumbled. "I don't mind you."

"You don't mind me?" She repeated, clearly insulted.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He quickly said, wanting to diffuse the situation.

"You mean, you don't mind being with a black woman for one night?" She accused sharply. Her blood boiled. He had some nerve.

He sighed, running his hand over his face. "For fuck's sake, don't put words in my mouth!"

He didn't just not mind her...he liked her. But he'd be damned if he admitted to himself or anyone else that he liked a black woman. That could never happen. A roll in the hay could be explained, puppy dog eyes and spending quality time together could not be explained away.

Before he could say another word she stormed off. "Wait!," He shouted. "Come on now!"

"Go fuck yourself, Dixon." She replied coldly, not looking back at him.

He felt his heart rip in two, but he did nothing to stop her. It would be better if they didn't talk anymore. Black with black. White with white. That's how it should be. Nothing else is right to him. His brain told him to leave her alone, that she's not his type. But his heart wanted her. Why the fuck did he sleep with her? They essentially became one. The chemistry, the feelings...everything. Something was there, but it couldn't be. They couldn't be.


	7. Chapter 7: Punishment

Michonne wasn't surprised. That stupid racist redneck. To think she actually had a soft spot for him. She rolled her eyes, knowing that the only spot that he had for her was hard and in his pants. She was foolish to even think that an idiot like Merle Dixon would take her seriously. Oh well, she may as well take it in stride though her pride was a bit hurt. She went to her cell and laid down to get some sleep. She figured that Rick would probably assign people different runs to carry out.

While Michonne seemed to fair well, Merle didn't. But he bought it on himself. The poor son of a bitch. He had to accept the fact that he could only be with her in his dreams. He desperately wanted to dream of her again.

8 torturous weeks went by, Merle fought side-by-side with Rick and company. He suppressed his desires for Michonne, and she didn't seem to pay him any mind. He was eerily quiet around her, and when she was in his group he froze up. He sat in his cell once more, alone; isolated from everyone, including his brother. Darryl tried to talk to him, but Merle just busted his balls like in the old days. Anything to mask his emotional anguish. He could never admit that he actually liked Michonne, he could never verbalize it. He could never admit that he liked holding her during the brief moments that he did. More importantly, he could never admit to loving the sex that they had.

He didn't feel like he belonged in Woodbury, but he needed to be separate from her. 8 weeks was long enough to decide, but of course he couldn't kill his jungle princess. He had a better option, though she wouldn't be too happy about it. He would make his leave tonight. He would take a momento, her sword. Presenting that to the governor would be more than enough verification of her death. Him swiping her sword and leaving camp would be the best thing for both of them. He wanted that. Needed that for his sanity.

He stood up and discreetly walked over to Michonne's cell. He quickly snagged her sword and stealthily snuck down the perch. He needed to retreat from her before he got in too deep, but he feared that it was too late. He would definitely miss her, and he didn't want to. Sneaking out of the tiers was the easy part, so was walking through the courtyard. The most difficult part would be hopping that damn fence. Everyone was sure to be sleeping though.

"Why couldn't she be a fucking white woman?" He asked himself. He was conflicted between his traditionally held beliefs and his feelings.

"What are you doing out here?" He heard a voice inquire. He looked a few yards ahead and saw Rick leaning against the gate. His figure was silhouetted by the combination of the darkness and the glaring spotlights

"I'm goin' back where I came from," Merle quickly said. "So move the hell outta the way, Yankee."

"I remembered the reason why i handcuffed you to that roof up in Atlanta." Rick sneered, folding his arms.

"Why's that?" Merle asked impatiently.

"You were an ass." Rick replied with a half-smile.

Merle chuckled. "Then by all means, let me go on my merry way then." He said brashly, making his way past his old rival.

"What are you running from?" Rick challenged.

Merle immediately stopped in his tracks and looked back at him. "I'm not runnin'."

"And why do you have Michonne's sword?" Rick asked, eying him curiously.

"That's none of your concern." Merle replied, his rage towards Rick building. Because of that piece of shit he lost one of his hands.

Who the hell did Officer Friendly think he is? He had no clue how much hurt Michonne and everyone in camp would be in if he didn't bring the sword to the governor. He was doing a selfless thing. The most selfless and high toll price that Merle Dixon could pay. He was going to give up on a woman that he had feelings for, give her sword as a trophy to Satan himself, and never set foot in this camp again. He cared for Darryl but his pride as the older brother overshadowed his logic. He didn't want him to know how deep he was with Michonne. He needed to be gone.

"Like hell it isn't." He retorted, eying him with apprehension.

Merle snorted. "I'm gettin' over that damn fence regardless if you help me out or not."

"I'll just shoot you." Rick stated, raising his gun.

He laughed. "You don't have the guts to shoot me, Officer Friendly." He said, making his way to the gate. He began climbing it with no regard for Rick's authority.

"You're right," He replied. "I don't want to have to explain it to Darryl and Michonne."

NO. That dick knew. Fucking Officer Friendly. The all knowing... "Don't you dare speak to me about her!" He snarled. He had no right.

Rick's eyes narrowed. He shook his head in disbelief. "You can't even say her name?" He was appalled by that. The sheer cowardice in saying her name.

"The fuck do you know?," Merle snarled, clenching her sword tightly. "I'm doing this for every fucking body in this ungrateful shithole camp!" That was a lie. He only had two people in his thoughts, his beloved baby brother and HER.

Rick put down his gun. "What are you talking about?"

"Jungle princess messed up the governor real good," He replied with a small smile. "Took out one of his beady little eyes."

Rick shrunk back, Michonne didn't mention having an altercation with the governor. "So he wants revenge for what happened in Woodbury?"

A hoarse laugh escaped Merle. "Ding, ding, ding!"

Rick sighed, running his hands over his face. "The governor is out for our blood...we need to-"

Merle snorted. "But all bullshit aside, I still have my grudge against you and a few of those other bitches in there," He said gruffly. "But her and my baby brother are in there."

"After you give the governor her sword will you come back here?"

"No." He quietly said.

A blind man could see it, and Rick saw it too. Merle was in love with Michonne. The bigot was probably ashamed of his views and the fact that he was in love with a black woman. The fact that they had differences was irrelevant. They were both men that felt love and were in danger of losing it. Rick had lost Lori, as big of an ass as Merle was he didn't feel like seeing a loss of love by choice.

"You don't have to leave." Rick replied, humanity flowing though his newly cold and callous voice.

Merle laughed. "Officer friendly! Such a nice guy!," He exclaimed with sarcasm in his voice. "So what, you want me to stay here and wait for the governor to seek me out here?" He inquired. Officer friendly was a naive little prick, the naivety made him even more weary of Rick's competency to lead.

Rick could sense Merle's doubt. "Michonne bought you here becuase she saw your strength. She also wanted you to be reunited with Darryl," he sighed. "If you leave it'll be all for nought."

"I'm going," He asserted. "So step aside, officer friendly."

Merle seemed firm with his convictions, despite how ill fated they were. Sacrificing a connection for something trivial as color in a world like this was borderline blasphemy. Rick wished to God that Lori would come walking through those gates. He was too busy hating her, and when she died he was destroyed. "How a man can willingly give up a connection to a woman he cares about, I don't know. He mused, rubbing the hairs of his chin. He wouldn't stop him but he knew that he would regret it, just like him. "What do you want me to tell her?" He asked in anguish, throwing up his hands

"Tell her that I'm dead." He said, hopping the fence. He'd never see her again, but it was for the best. He began his trek to Woodbury, a lonely journey that he bought on himself. The sword was the only part of her that he had, and he was foolishly giving that up too. This was his punishment for all his bigotry and orneriness, wanting a woman he couldn't have.

Rick made his way through the courtyard and back into the prison. Merle's predicament weighed heavy on him, despite their differences they were both men of folly. The women in their lives were the collateral damage. He saw a variant of foolishness in Merle that reminded him of his mistakes. Compassion and love shouldn't be forsaken, no matter what.

He leaned into the bars of Michonne's cell. "Michonne, you awake?"

"Yeah," She asked blandly. "What is it, Rick? It's late. Everyone okay?"

He bowed his head, in brief thought. "I need to talk to you about Merle." He finally said, hiding the uncertainty in his voice.

**Thanks to everyone that has given input on my story! Another thanks to the people that have favorited or liked my story! I appreciate it! It gives me an incentive to keep on writing chapters and to update quickly. I write on here for fun, but also to see if people will like what I'm writing. Thanks again!**


	8. Chapter 8: Broken

Merle felt the sting of regret as he approached Woodbury with Michonne's katana in hand. It was mid morning by the time he had arrived and the typically bustling people of Woodbury were still, looking at him hopefully. They remembered the sword, the presence of it resonated with them. It was from the woman that invaded their town and attacked their beloved governor.

"Did you kill the terrorist?" A random man in the crowd inquired.

Terrorist? His African Queen? As much as he wanted to curse him and slam his head into the concrete he restrained himself. This is for her life. "Yes." He replied coldly, making his way out of the crowd. He continued walking down the sidewalk of the cookie-cutter town and it seemed like a walk that took eternity. He saw Andrea talking with the Governor outside of his apartment. The Governor's usually stoic face twisted into a pleased smirk. Andrea looked at him, flabbergasted, not believing it. Michonne wouldnt willingly part with her sword. Her friend was dead.

"Governor." Merle said, bowing his head and handing him her sword.

He inspected the sword, then laughing hysterically. "Yes. Finally," He held the sword in his hand. "You've done well, Merle."

"Thank you, sir." He replied dutifully. Secretly he fucking hated this man. He hated this whole town. He wanted to wipe that smirk off of his pretty boy face. But alas, it was his destiny to live, grow old and die in Woodbury.

"We must celebrate your great service to Woodbury, to its people, and to me!" The governor exclaimed fervently.

A party. A fucking party for killing a woman. This asshole. But prior to getting to know Michonne he treated people terribly. He was no different from the governor in a lot of ways, when he abducted Maggie and Glenn and his blatant disregard for human life. It took Michonne to unknowingly show him the meaning of kindness to another person. He desperately wanted to take care of her and this was the only way that she would be safe.

He forced a smile. "Thank you, sir. I look forward to it."

"You shall get special treatment and honor! Get cleaned up and I'll organize festivities in your honor at 7:00 tonight!"

Merle nodded. "I won't be late, I'll see you tonight, governor." Andrea glared at Merle, shaking her head and then storming off.

"She'll be fine in due time." The Governor assured.

"Sure." Merle replied, walking away. He was feeling some type of way, was this decision really the right one? He walked back to his lonely and bare apartment. Living, growing old and dying in Woodbury seemed dull without HER. Rick's words echoed in his mind. He could have stayed, Rick would have let him. But he didn't do it, he couldn't. For what? Trivial prejudices? Officer fucking Friendly had a way with words and making them stick to a person.

He plopped down on his mattress once more, staring at the ivory-colored ceiling. He reached under the bed and retrieved his beloved PlayBoy. After a few tedious moments of flipping through the magazine and gazing at the attractive women he shrugged. He became alarmed, he had pleasured himself to that magazine for a while now; yet he couldn't get it up. He sat up and threw the magazine across the room. It was her. It had to be, he had missed her and it seemed as if those women in that stupid little book were nothing. He had no desire to look, he just wished that he could've said goodbye. He left camp like a sniveling bitch. Hell, he didn't even say goodbye to his baby brother.

He deceived the governor, is stuck living in a boring ass town and had to be without his African Queen and baby brother. Merle closed his eyes, he cursed. He was borderline losing it but he had to keep it together for tonight. He was shaking in rage and frustration. But he bought it on himself. He could've stayed.

A knock on the door caught his attention. He stood up and walked towards it. "Yeah?"

"It's Andrea!" She said impatiently.

He opened the door. He snorted. "Just what in the hell do you wan-?," Without warning she slapped him in the face. He stood there for a minute, letting the abuse register. His temper began to slowly boil over. Who did this blonde bitch think that she is? "Who the fuck do you think you are coming to my place and slapping me?!" He bellowed, indignant. He was seething and so fucking angry.

She pushed him back and stepped into the apartment, slamming the door shut. "You bastard!," She screamed at the top of her lungs. "You killed Michonne!" She lunged for him.

He pushed her away. "Stop it." He didn't want to hit a woman. He didn't fucking want to. The only woman he respected was Michonne, no other woman was worth two shits to him.

She came at him again. "You killed Michonne!"

His chest heaved and a scowl appeared on his face. "Get the fuck out!," He caught one of her shoulders. "You don't know a goddamn thing, you blonde bitch!" He pushed her back and she hit the door with a thud. "You don't know a fucking thing!" He screamed. He was losing it. What the fuck did she know? Nothing. She didn't know the fucking lies and sacrifices that he had to make. "What the fuck do you know?!," He asked, menacingly walking towards her. He stooped down and looked at her. "While you were out whoring around with the governor and sucking his dick I'm actually out doing things!," He went on. "Fucking things that I'm not proud of! So you have no goddamn idea!"

She shrunk back at him.

"Now get the fuck out." He barked in disgust.

She quickly stood up, glaring at him hatefully. "Too bad the Governor found you on that roof," She sneered. "You would be better off dead- "

He drew back his hand but cursed, thinking about Michonne. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, bringing it to his side. Hitting this bitch in the face would do nothing for how he was feeling, or his manhood. But fuck, she was the only woman that tested him...or maybe it was because she kept saying her name.

He opened the door so hard that the door almost flew off of its hinges. "Get out. Bitch." She made her way out and he shut the door behind her with such force that the door fixture cracked. He put his back to the door, sliding down and putting his head in his hand. His body was slumped back, his prosthesis covered stump resting lazily on the floor. There was no man alive that had more broken of a heart than Merle Dixon.


	9. Chapter 9: Determined

Michonne's eyes softened. She felt a pain, not a physical pain but an emotional pain. She treated him terribly in the end. Maybe she expected too much from Merle. He was a simple man who showed her kindness in his own ways. Typically he wasn't the most personable or sensitive man, but he was far from evil. She was wrong for how she treated him. She remembered how mean she was to him. She knew that he cared for her, but she was stubborn and wanted to hear it. What she failed to realize at first was that men like Merle showed care with actions, not words.

"But he told me to tell you that."

"He's not dead?," She asked, a warm smile shining through. "But why would he- -?"

"He took your sword and offered it to the governor," Rick replied. "That takes the place of your head."

She paused. That big idiot left the sanctuary of the prison and his beloved baby brother behind to make sure her life was preserved. What a truly selfless thing that a man like Merle Dixon could do for her.

"That's the price that he wanted to pay," Rick said with a shrug. "I gave him my blessing to stay. But he refused." The fact that Rick put him and Merle's assorted past on the back burner spoke volumes. But a man hell set on denial and fleeing from the unknown and new could not be persuaded.

She jumped up. "I need to go see him!" She exclaimed with urgency in her voice. She had to see him and apologize. To tell that big idiot that she missed him and wanted to survive in this hellish world with him by her side.

Rick grabbed her arm. "You can't."

She pulled away. "Please don't try and stop me, Rick." Rick stepped back, hearing the determination in her voice.

"Merle gone missin'?," Darryl asked, leaning in the doorway of the cell. He heard everything. "And y'all weren't gonna tell me?"

"I'm going to bring him back myself," Michonne asserted, walking past both Rick and Darryl. "Don't worry about it."

Darryl looked at her in apprehension, then letting up when he saw the conviction in her eyes. "Shit," He said, putting his hands on his hips. "You're just like him. Stubborn as hell," He cracked a smile. "Shit, go on then."

Rick looked at him for a minute, then caving. "If you aren't back by sunrise we'll send for you."

She nodded. "All I need is a disguse of some sorts."

"I can check Lori's suitcase." Rick offered.

Darryl and Michonne both looked at him, shocked by his suggestion. "Are you sure?" Michonne asked, a bit surprised.

"Yes," Rick said with certainty in his voice. "It's okay," He assured. "Carl wouldn't mind either. He respects you."

She smiled. "Okay."

"I'll bring out the suitcase." Rick said, walking away from Michonne and Darryl.

Darryl eyed Michonne for a moment, then smiling.

"What?" She asked, taken off guard by Darryl's smile.

His smile got bigger. "You love my brother, dont chu'?" He asked teasingly.

She nearly had a heart attack. Love? In love? With Merle Dixon? The word love and the name "Merle Dixon" seemed foreign, and a bit awkward. In a world like this was there any room for love? She doubted that it could be. She doubted that Merle would ask her out on a date. She doubted that he'd propose or marry her. She doubted that she'd have a comfortable term and give birth to a healthy, little mixed baby. His baby. In this world that would never happen. She could never make a nice dinner for him while he was out and about doing...whatever Merle Dixon did. She could never be a wife. She could never be a mother again. It was all just too painful in this situation. It caused doubt and fear, but she still wanted it. Somehow.

She paused. "I..."

"Here's her suitcase," Rick said, placing the suitcase at her feet. She thanked her lucky stars for that interruption. "Take what you need."

"Thank you."

Darryl laughed. "It's true."

Rick looked at them both, perplexed.

"Nothin'" Darryl quickly said, rubbing his chin.

As if Rick hadn't grasped the whole Merle and Michonne dynamic. "I'm going to check on Carl and the others," He said, walking away from them. "Remember, sunrise tommorw." He said sternly, looking over his shoulder.

"Yes." She replied.

Darryl watched him walk off, then looking at her once more. "Do you love my brother?" He asked blankly. Damn it. Just like a Dixon. They never freaking let up.

"I like him." She replied timidly and discreetly. She was desperate to get Darryl off of her back. She was telling the truth though. There was something about Merle Dixon that was just so endearing and charming.

"Ain't no woman ever took to Merle," He said with apprehension. "Well besides the skanky ones," He laughed. "He never took to no woman neither, besides for some quick ass."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Cause' my older brother never gets any rise from no woman, but you drive him bat shit crazy," He went on. "Shit, I caught him sneaking out to catch some fish the other day," He smiled in amusement. "He looked right pitiful when I caught him. He didn't want to be caught doin' anything for a woman. But you're different from everyone else," He mused. "He loves himself some Michonne."

She playfully hit him in the shoulder. "Huh, you know your brother so well."

"He's looked at black women now and then when he thought I wasn't watchin'," He couldn't hide his amusement at reminiscing about how Merle used to be. "But never gave em' the time of day. Til' you."

"I'm the exception?" She asked with a laugh.

"I'm tellin' you," He mused. "That crazy son-um-bitch loves you."

She quickly turned away from him, smiling to herself. What if Darryl was right? If he didn't know anyone else he certainly knew his older brother. She was an idiot to expect anything else from him besides a fresh batch of fish and a warm body to be with on nights. But was that really so bad in a world like this? Anything that kept a person feeling alive mattered. She had no right to expect anything else from him.

"Go on." Darryl prodded. She nodded and watched him as he walked away.

She looked at Lori's suitcase. She dragged it to her cell and she began to go through it. They seemed to have been about the same size. A red sundress caught her attention, it was very cute and she remembered her mass quantities of clothes that she used to own. She sighed. Surely she'd wear this. Despite the current state of the world she couldn't help but want to look beautiful for Merle. Damn, she was such a woman.

She got dressed and snagged the lone pistol from under her bed. She put her hair in a ponytail and hoped that the slight change would fool the people of Woodbury from far away distances. Since only the governor had seen her she would be in the clear. She would go to Merle's place, talk some sense into him, and bring him back to the prison where he belonged...with her.


	10. Chapter 10: Drunken Proclamation of Love

Merle walked towards the town hall and saw the governor ushering him over with a drink in each hand. The residents of Woodbury crowded the surrounding area. They were cheering for him. It was the edge of sunrise and the small stadium where most of the festivities were held was lit up with lights. People clamored and awed at the sight of Merle.

"Merle Dixon, everyone!" The Govenor shouted with fervor.

He meekly bowed his head, accepting the drink. God knows he needed that drink. "Anything for Woodbury." He said, toasting and taking a swig of the whiskey. Everyone toasted and drank their drinks along with him. He wondered how the Governor knew that was his favorite, well it didn't matter. He had more issues than whiskey, how was he going to live without his Jungle Princess?

He saw Andrea standing off in the distance. Good. He hoped that bitch stayed over there. Out of nowhere he was swarmed by a few women in the crowd. Typical fucking groupies. Before then they wouldn't have given him any time. The old Merle would surely have taken advantage of all the pussy being thrown at him. There was no point in it now. There was only one woman that he could think about. A beautiful woman with ebony skin, quick wit and a firm slap and kick. To think that he left the prison to go back to a place like this, where everyone is either stupid or in denial. Woodbury wouldn't prosper forever, but at least it kept the Governor at bay. At least she was alive and safe.

He was in a haze, attractive young women were chatting him up and he couldn't say a word. All he could think about was HER. He was angry on the inside, bitter. He wanted no parts of that stupid ass party. "Scuse' me, it's been a long day." He said, making his way out of the crowd. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, seeing the Govenor standing behind him.

"You have quite the fan base now," He said with a laugh. Merle knew that they weren't real, they were only skanks that wanted a piece of dick from the man that "saved" Woodbury...or whatever the fuck the Governor tells these shit for brains these days. "You're leaving so soon?" He inquired.

Merle shrugged. "I'm not the big party type," He replied. "I'm a simple country boy." Country boy. She called him that before they made sweet love that one time.

The Govenor smiled. "Of course," He said, patting him on the back. "Your brief appearance means a lot to us. We'll continue the night in your honor."

"Thanks, Governor." Merle replied slightly bowing his head.

He walked back to his apartment and slammed the door shut. He raided his cabinets, coming across 3 new bottles of whiskey. He faintly remembered mentioning his drinking preferences when he first arrived at Woodbury. The drink selection didn't seem too left field after all. Stress and heartbreak surely could alter feelings and certain memories. He did all a man in his position could do. He opened a bottle of whiskey and went to town. He wasn't foreign to drinking away his sorrows, maybe that's why he was a giant ball of fuckery today.

He fucking hated Woodbury, and its pretty boy leader. He used him like a puppet, terrorized his baby brother and his group, and on top of it all, went after the woman he cared so much about. He took another swig. The burning sensation in his throat intensified and he barely flinched. He would rather be cut and killed 20 times over than deal with this pain. A fucking pain in his nearly nonexistent heart. He drank some more. And more. And more. He wasn't a crier. He wasn't a pussy so the bottle did him just fine. He was halfway through the bottle and began feeling the subtle effects. He walked around his apartment, cussing, borderline sobbing. "Fucking Governor," He seethed. "Taking my woman from me...that sorry sack of shit," He leaned his face against the wall, pounding it with his fist. A few inaudible ramblings escaped him. "What the fuck did she see in me anyway?," He mused, his voice slurring. "She's too good, to goddamn good for my ass."

He picked up the bottle once more, he dimly heard a knock on the door. "Who. The. Fuck. Is. It?"

"Andrea."

His alcohol soaked brain faintly remembered the shit she gave him a day or two ago. "Fuck you!," He yelled at the door. "Get the fuck out of here before I kill you!"

"Open the damn door!" She demanded, then jumping as the door flew open and a livid...and drunk Merle Dixon was looking back at her.

"Come in, bitch, make yourself comfortable." He urged with his slurred voice. He was still pissed at her. He yanked her by the arm and slid her with such force that she hit the back counter. He slammed the door shut with his foot, picking up his bottle once more. He took another swig.

Andrea winced at her hurt back, then drawing her pistol.

Merle laughed hysterically, his laugh was hoarse and imposing. "Pull the fucking trigger, Blondie," He taunted, raising the bottle to his lips once more. "Do me a goddamn favor."

She lowered her weapon. "You feel guilty." Something clicked in Andrea's mind. She stood up, walking over to him. He eyed her wearily and angrily, bottle still in hand. She remembered his smartass from Atlanta, so threatening and imposing. He wasn't at this point, the liquor was doing it for him. His eyes looked full of hurt and affliction. She stood toe-to-toe with him.

He briefly snapped out of his alcohol induced haze. He was in and out of focus at this point. His hearing went dead and he faintly realized that Andrea was unbuttoning her blouse. "The fuck are you doin', girl?" He thought it was beneath a woman like Andrea to try and take advantage of a half-incapacitated man. He scoffed. Apparently cock was cock. "Is the Governor not doin' it for you?"

"This helps me when I'm drunk," She said, unbuttoning her shirt all the way so that he could see her. "It's fine." Merle could see it, she was the same as those girls out in the town.

He quickly pushed her away, succumbing to his drunk haze once more. "I don't want you. Michonne is the woman for me." He proclaimed.

Andrea's eyes widened. Michonne? But the Governor and the whole town thought she was dead, unless he's just feeling guilty about killing her. Andrea had never been denied by a man before, especially by a man like Merle. "If she's dead you should forget about her." She urged.

"She's not fucking dead, you stupid cunt...," He muttered, grabbing her wrist. "I fucking love her and no goddamn neighborhood tramp will take her place," He screamed, quickly releasing her. He loved her. He fucking said it. He was drunk but damn, he actually said it. He denied Andrea and professed his love for Michonne all in a uniquely Merle Dixon way. "Why the fuck did I let you in in the first place?!," He sneered, wobbling towards the door and opening it. "Fuck off to the Governor."

And with that, he shut the door in her face.

**Thank you all for all of the reviews so far! I really appreciate it! It's nice to know how other people receive my work! Thanks again!**


	11. Chapter 11: His Everything

He awakened sprawled out on his back. He winced, clenching his aching head. A pool of vomit was beside his face. His shirt and pants were stained and he felt like hell overall. He looked to the other side of him and saw the empty bottle of whiskey. He was still dazed and confused. He woke up aware, but still drunk and angry.

His vision was a tad blurry but he saw a figure hovering over him. On instinct he rolled on his stomach and jumped up.

"Merle." He heard a soft voice call out.

His vision cleared and he saw Michonne staring back at him with her hands on her hips. "Is this a dream?!" He asked accusingly.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?" Michonne asked gently with a sigh.

He shrunk back from her. He could tell that she was disappointed. "Why are you- -?"

She grabbed his hand. He was taken aback by the unexpected tenderness. "You have a tub, don't you?" She asked, briefly scanning his bare apartment with her quick eyes.

"Y-Yes...," He said, looking away in embarrassment. "What of it?"

"You stink," She teased. "And you have throw up in your hair."

He blushed. Well fuck. It was in his hair too.

"I'll guide you upstairs and I'll clean you up."

Beautiful, strong and sweet. He was truly lost without her.

She led him upstairs and into his modest bathroom. She ran the water. "Can you stand?"

"I'm fine." He said, still embarassed by his current state.

She handed him his toothbrush from the side of the sink. "Brush."

"Yes ma'am." He said obediently, walking over to the sink and doing as she said. He dimly remembered last night. He remembered Andrea waltzing in and trying to seduce him but that was it. A sense of alarm swept over him. Could he have had sex with her? No. No. He couldn't have. Before meeting Michonne, sure. But after being with her and becoming attached he couldn't bear to look at another woman, let alone touch one. He calmed down, then sighing deeply.

She lathered up a bar of Irish Spring soap into the water, watching as the bubbles began to emerge from the water. He gazed at her in the mirror as he quickly finished brushing his teeth. He turned around. "I'm not a little brat, you know?" He said gruffly.

She smiled. "I know," She replied, kissing him in the lips. "Get in the tub, Captain Morgan." She teased.

"I'm no drunk." He muttered as he stripped himself of his clothes and got in. The water was nice and warm to his aching body.

"Yeah, yeah," She muttered back to him. "I'm going to wash your hair, do you mind if I wear one of your shirts while I do that?"

He smiled. "You're more prim than I took you for," He taunted. "You don't wanna get your little dress wet."

"I'm actually not," She retorted with a smirk. "I'll have you know, Rick let me borrow his wife's clothes. I don't want to ruin them."

His curiosity piqued. "Officer friendly knows that you're here?"

"Where are your shirts?" She asked, not wanting to get him into the adversarial rantings about Rick.

"The closet outside to your left."

She walked out of the room. He nearly broke his neck watching her and her firm, smack-able ass. "Damn girl, I love watchin' you leave, but I hate to see you go."

"Oh please." She said with a laugh, rummaging through the crudely stocked closer. She got out of her dress and shoes, then removing her bra. She put on a plain white t-shirt that she found sloppily put away. "How often do you clean?," She asked, attempting to tuck in the hurriedly organized clothes. "Once a year?"

He chuckled and licked his lips. "Well if I had a sexy, Nubian housewife I wouldn't have to worry about it."

She walked back towards the bathroom and leaned in the doorway. "And be your maid, hah! Fat chance."

She looked hot in his t-shirt, it hung off of her just right. It complemented her lovely body and curves. "You know it wouldn't be like that," He cajoled. "I'd take care of you."

"Are you still drunk?"

"Hell no," He quickly said, insulted by that suggestion. "You think I need the bottle to admit my feelings to you?"

"Did I say that?" She asked, her voice calm and cool; as always.

"No." He grumbled, realizing that his insecurities were shining through. She was a good damn woman, she only held him to the fire when she needed to; and she only busted his balls when it suited her fancy.

She smiled. Deep down Merle Dixon was a sensitive man. "You'll take care of me?" She asked, walking over to him. He sat pliantly in the tub, waiting for his scrub down.

"Yes." He said, looking up at her.

"Alright, you can pay me back for getting the puke out of your hair." She said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'll do anything." He said hopefully.

"Wash cloth?"

"Underneath the sink."

He savored the view of her as she bent over to reach the wash cloth. She stood up and looked back at him. "Ready for your scrub down?"

"Hell yeah." Despite the circumstances he was glad to see her.

She stooped down and kneeled behind him. She grabbed the soap and splashed some water in his hair, then lathering some soap in it. A sigh of content escaped his lips as she began gently massaging his scalp. For the first time since they were last together he was relaxed. She had gentle hands and he wished she could massage his scalp forever.

He rested his soapy head against her.

"Hey!" She exclaimed. "I just put this shirt on."

"I don't care," He retorted with closed eyes. "It's my shirt and I don't think you'll melt if you get wet." Her body heat radiating against his was to die for. He loved the feel of her against him, clothes or none. A little lip service was worth it.

She grumbled at him and he bursted out laughing.

"Girl, you are somethin' else." He mused, his grin not leaving his face.

"So are you, Merle Dixon," She chimed, parting his hair with her diligent fingers."Close your eyes." He did so and he felt a series of splashes of water running down his face. She lathered up his back and meticulously rinsed off every speck of soap.

"I have scars." He replied, easing away from her hands.

"Do they hurt?"

"No," He said firmly. "But you shouldn't have to look at them."

"We all have some type of scar," She crooned, kissing the back of his neck. "If you don't, you're weird." Why was she so comforting?

He laughed. "Shit, the tiny ones are probably from you."

"Want me to go easy next time?" She teased.

"No, I like it rough," He looked back at her. "Where's your scars?"

"I have mostly small cuts," She sighed. "But I still have that bullet wound where your crazy ass shot me." She mentioned with a laugh.

He laughed with her. "Well you kicked me in the dick."

She shrugged. "Well I think I made up for that." She said with a smile.

"Yeah you have," He replied, then sighing as he felt her soft hands lathering soap on his chest. God knows he hadn't laughed in so long, he hadn't felt anything good in so long. This was it. This woman was it. His lifeline for his own sanity. "Can I tell you somethin'?"

"Sure." She replied as she continued washing his chest.

"The governor threw me a party for killing you." He said bluntly.

She scoffed. "I'm not surprised by that."

"He had the crowds of people greet me, they cheered for me," He went on. "Women flocked to me like flies on horse shit- -"

She bursted out laughing at his last statement.

"But I didn't stay long, I came back here and got shitfaced."

"Why?"

"Because I was upset and actin' like a little bitch," He sighed. "I was upset that I'd never be able to see you anymore."

She smiled to herself and caressed him from behind.

"Andrea came over here and kept runnin' her trap and tried to fuck me," He contiuned. "But I sent her ass packing, shitfacedness and all."

"She likes you?" She asked, a bit surprised.

"I don't know," He grumbled. "And I don't care," He replied. "I did that because of you."

"You didn't need to..." She muttered under her breath.

"What, so you don't care what I do?" He asked, offended by her dismissiveness.

"It's not my place to dictate anything." She said with a shrug.

His blood began to boil at her coldness. "I don't want any other woman but you!," He declared. "I can't see any other woman but you...," He said with conviction in his voice. "you're all that I see and want. I left the party and turned down all of those women, even Andrea because they're nothin' to me."

She was speechless.

"You're my everything." He avowed.

Her eyes widened. She was in shock, he said his feelings. And his feelings were real...she could feel it. Merle Dixon was everything. Crude, profane, sensitive...gentle, warm...comforting; endearing.

He turned around and adjusted himself to the other side of the tub so that he could actually see her. She gazed at him as he sat in a relaxed state in the tub. Both of his arms leaned against the back of the tub. He was looking back at her with his bedroom eyes. His eyes were beautiful and could uniquely capture his feelings in a rare snapshot of a blink. "I missed You." He said boldly, before his brief feeling of courage fled him.

"I missed you too." She replied with a smile.

"Come here and give me a kiss." He cajoled, his southern dialect coming out. Merle Dixon was a smooth talker for sure, once his crude exterior was peeled away.

She walked over to him, the smile never leaving her face.

He playfully grabbed her and before she knew it she was in the tub with him. She groaned in anguish. "Oh come on, Merle!," She exclaimed with a half smile. "Why the hell would you just- -" He shut her up with a deep kiss.

"Don't be so uptight, my Nubian Queen," He said, adjusting her body against his. She was straddling him, holding on tightly to his shoulders. "You're already wet now, can't change that."

She grumbled. Despite her cool and calm demeanor, underneath it all she was as feisty as they come.

He looked down at her body, the shirt was soaked and it stuck to her firm breasts. "You are the most beautiful woman that I've ever laid eyes on." He gently lifted up her shirt, he put a nipple to his mouth and began to suckle on it.

She moaned, shutting her eyes and titling her head back. He definitely knew how to please a woman. He reached under the water and ran his fingers between her legs. "You still have your panties on, that's no fun," He playfully scolded. "What kind of woman wears panties while she's givin' someone a bath?" He teased.

"A woman who wasn't expecting to be pulled into the tub and fondled." She playfully retorted.

He grunted. "I see, well why don't you take them off?"

"Sex in a bathtub?," She laughed. "Really now?"

"A man and woman should be able to have sex wherever they like." He replied with a grin.

"Yeah, as long as those places don't deviate from the standard laws..." She mentioned in apprehension.

"Laws?," He asked in disgust, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "Ain't no laws round' here now."

She rolled her eyes. "I suppose that you're right."

He chuckled, then gazing at her hungrily. "So, am I going to be able to make sweet, hot animal love to you tonight?" He paused, hearing her stomach rumble. "Huh, I guess I wouldn't be worth two shits if I don't feed you."

She was a bit embarrassed about her stomach. "I'm fine!" She quickly said.

"You're lean enough," He chided, taking her in his arms and slowly standing up. After getting out of the tub he put her down and reached for 2 white towels hanging up. "You need to eat," After they both dried off he put on fresh clothes, a crisp white tank top and blue jeans. She put on her dress and followed behind him as he made his way downstairs. "What would you like?"

She shrugged. "What do you have?"

He walked towards his fridge and took a quick look. "We raided a few farms of there cattle so I have plenty of meat in here. Beef chuck, pork ribs, steaks...chicken filets-"

"I haven't had a good steak in a while." She mentioned, feeling her mouth water at the thought of having steak again.

"Steak it is, then," He said with a smile, taking out the steaks. "I make a mean ass steak too," He touted. "Baby brother used to bitch for them all the time."

She smiled at the mention of Darryl. Despite his shortcomings Merle was actually a caring brother, and a good person.

"Sit your fine ass down and watch Chef Merle at work!" He said proudly, gesturing towards the bed. She walked over and sat down. He turned his back and turned on the stove. She blushed, barely being able to believe it. Merle Dixon was cooking for her. There were so many sides to this man and she loved them all.

**I'll gradually be winding this story down soon and I'm debating what I want to do with it. I have a good idea of how I want it to end (2 ways, to be exact). I'm debating whether or not I want to make a sequel to this story. Since this story is almost exclusively Merle X Michonne, I was thinking about making another story with actual walker-action and whatnot. What do you guys think? I don't wanna play out a good story, but I kind of don't want it to end yet either (lol)! :/ thanks for the reviews and input! **


	12. Chapter 12: Good Man

After finishing her steak she eyed him curiously.

"What?" He asked, looking back at her.

She folded her arms. "How long are you going to ignore things?" She asked in annoyance.

He stood up, grabbing the plates and placing them in the sink. "Whatchu' talkin' bout, girl?," He asked, leaning against the counter and looking back at her. She noticed his thickest southern accent made an appearance when he was frustrated or angry. Merle was cute when he was angry."I'm just so goddamn happy to see you," He confessed. "So excuse the hell out of me for not wantin' to discuss the secrets of the fuckin' world with you." He walked over to her, she was gazing at him intently while she sat.

"I came all this way to come and get your happy ass!," She snapped, standing up from her chair and stepping to him. He looked down at her, his temper beginning to simmer. But she looked so goddamn beautiful, even as she stood to him, hands on her hips and with a scowl on her face. He felt the pang of his arousal and his dick sprung to attention. It was some Pavlov's dog shit that he couldn't understand, but he was so happy, frustrated and turned on all at the same time looking at this woman. "I told Darryl that I'd bring you back!" She yelled, not noticing his body's reaction to her.

His eyes widened at the mention of his baby brother. He forced a shrug. "Shit, tell him I ain't comin' back." He mumbled.

"What is this?" She asked, throwing up her hands.

"What's what?!" He retorted, his voice low and cold.

"Us!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Why the fuck did she have to roll her eyes?! He grew another inch from that. She was frustrating, to say the least but her stubbornness mixed in with her femininity was irresistible.

"What the fuck you think?," He snarled. "I care about you!...I care about you enough not to go back with you!"

Her nostrils flared in anger. "Bullshit." She spat, folding her arms.

His blood boiled. "The fuck did you say to me?!"

"Bull. Shit."

He could've nearly screamed. "Don't say that shit to me." He snarled.

"Well don't string me along!" She yelled, balling up her fists in anger.

He chuckled hysterically. "Are you fuckin' serious?," He asked, floored that she'd use the "string my along" quote. "Open your fuckin' ears and hear what you're sayin' to me," He exhaled deeply, trying to find his words. "I don't want to fuckin' destroy you, and that's the truth," He went on. "God knows I ain't good for nobody, not even Darryl."

"That's not true!"

"The fuck it ain't," He sneered. "I see how those bitches look at me in the prison," He paused. "Even my own damn brother looks at me like I'm-"

"But honest," She demanded. "Be honest and tell me if you want me or not!"

"You don't fuckin' get it." He said with a deep sigh.

"No!," She exclaimed, pointing her index finger against his chest. He wanted to kiss that finger. "You don't get it, Merle Dixon!"

He scoffed. "I do want you," He said, his voice hoarse and hot. "But I'm no fuckin' good," He tightly shut his eyes, bringing his lips to her forehead. "But you'll still have me?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes," She declared. "I'll have you," She assured. "And I want you with me."

"You're dumb as you are beautiful..." He mused.

"You're the idiot here!," She retorted. "You can never see the good in us being together!" This man's doubt was going to drive her crazy.

"You actually wanna be with a bastard like me?," He asked in apprehension, raising his brow. She could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes. "Do you know what you're gettin' yourself into?"

She huffed. "Yes!," She grabbed him by his shirt. "Get it through your head," She commanded, looking him dead in the eyes. "You are a good damn man!," She asserted wholeheartedly, then grabbing his face. She stared at the two windows of his soul. He was so vulnerable. His eyes said it, his lips were held tightly together; as if that was his last form of strength. He still couldn't register the phrase "good man" a second time. "Stop making pointless excuses of why you can't be with me!," She scolded. "Either you do or you don't!" She said, exasperated. She was passionate about this man. Before she was cold and distant, before meeting Andrea and Rick and company. Merle Dixon was a man that annoyed and repulsed her on a daily basis, but after getting to know him she realized what a beautiful person he was beneath it all.

"I do fuckin' want you!," He avowed, half angry that she would question his feelings for her. "Don't you dare think that I don't- -!"

"Then show me," She challenged. "Put up or shut up, country boy."

She knew just how to try him and get him going. He kissed her deep, and she enjoyed every second of it. His kisses were feral, hot...needy. As there tongues met she could taste him. He was strong and stout, hot against her mouth and tongue. He was nearly desperate with his kisses as he caressed and rubbed each curve of her body. He kissed and gently suckled her neck, then her top of her breasts. He stooped down, leaning on one knee and letting his hand venture up her dress. She tensed, feeling his hand moving up her leg. He caressed her thigh, then slowly moving the dress up. He stood up, with the bottom of the dress in hand.

He realized that everyone was at the point where life wasn't promised anymore, neither were dreams or wants. But he was never more sad in his life than during the moments he couldn't see her anymore. He didn't want to carry that regret anymore. He wanted to be with her freely and for as long as possible. Trivial codes and ideas didn't matter anymore, he just wanted her. He needed her.

A primal growl escaped his throat as he saw her exposed legs and thighs. She was wearing a sheer white pair of panties. The porcelain white looked lovely on her deep skin tone. He kissed her once more. "I really want to rip your off your panties, cut off that dress off, and fuck you like a buck in mating season," His voice was guttural. Merle Dixon certainly had a way with words. She was getting hot and wet already. He was rough, rugged and hard; just how she liked him. He disconnected his prosthesis and rubbed the outside of her panties. "Goddamn," He groaned, savoring the small feeling that he could get from his mangled limp. "You're so fucking wet." He placed his hand there, tortuously rubbing his index finger back and forth against her clothed pussy. She gyrated against his moving finger.  
He licked his lips as he moved his finger from her and bought it to his mouth, sucking her juices off of it in a gesture of reverence. She was fucking everything. No sorry sack of shit would stand in his way of being with her. God help the son of a bitch that stood in his way.

She clung to him, straddling his hips as he bought his mouth back to hers. She caressed the back of his head with one hand, and his strong back with the other. He abruptly picked her up all the way. He made his way to the back counter, not by sight but by memory. Their mouths were connected and her lips were so full and soft.

He gently sat her on the counter, she continued caressing his hard body. Her legs were spread with his pelvis in between them. She could feel his clothed cock grinding against her while he still kissed her. She moistened even more in sheer anticipation of the tenting of his arousal. He rubbed against her, relishing in the foreplay that he was giving her and himself. He continued rubbing himself against her. He moved her panties to the side, then letting his index and middle finger slide into her in one smooth motion. She moaned against his mouth at his delightful surprise. He fucked her with his fingers, slow and deep; all while keeping his lips attached to hers. "You like that, babe?" He cajoled against her mouth. "Tell me you like it."

She moaned against him. "I love it." She moved against his fingers, getting a deeper angle.

He groaned. "Yeah babe." He said hoarsely, high off of the pleasure and excitement of the enigma of a woman that was Michonne. He tore his mouth from hers and tore off her panties like he wanted to. He kneeled down and began eating her. He ate her like she was the first and last woman that he would ever taste again. He dimly thought that he wouldn't mind that at all.

She grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face against her even more. She wanted him to not only taste her, but smell and explore her depths. She wanted him to realize that she was the only woman that could tame him, as well as indulge his animal side. He darted his tongue in and out of her as he sucked on her clit. He never tasted anything like her, she was exotic, but all woman. She tasted like Heaven and was probably the closest form of Heaven that a man like Merle Dixon would ever see or feel. He rubbed at the bulge pushing against his zipper as he kept eating her. The front of his zipper was wet from his precum, damn he wanted this woman.  
There eyes met for a brief second and he knew that she wanted his hot, animal lovemaking. She wanted it so bad that she couldn't think. He quickly stood up, hurriedly unzipping his pants and letting them fall to the floor. He pulled her to him so she was balanced on the counter. Before she could say anything he pushed her dress up and thrusted upward. He buried himself deep inside her. His cock was scorching hot inside her, it felt like hot steel encased with velvet. He was harder than the last time and his lovemaking showed. He plundered her soft walls with his greedy cock, not ever wanting to stop feeling her around him. He continued pounding her moist and yearning pussy as he held her in place against the counter. His strokes were hard, deep and urgent.

"Yeah," He grunted against her mouth, caressing her thigh as he held her body in place with his stump. He cursed, feeling the delicious pressure building at the base of his cock. He dug his nails into her thigh, not missing a stroke. "This is how much I want you!," He screamed, speeding up his strokes. "Fuck yeah I want you, girl!" She clung to him as he gave her everything he had.  
"Oh Dixon..." She purred against him as she licked her lips. She wanted to feel the sheer friction of both of their bodies together once again. Merle seemed to sense it. He helped her get the dress over her head, then throwing it aside, not missing a stroke. She undid her bra and he took off his shirt. They sighed in unison, finally feeling each other's body, skin to skin. He continued making love to her, slowing down for a brief moment before losing control once more. She hung on to him, feeling her own release.  
"Yeah, babe...come for me," He groaned and licked his lips as he felt his own impending orgasm. She closed her eyes, moaning as her pussy spasmed around him. "Give it to me!" He commanded, his voice hoarse, animalistic and hypnotic as he continued his strokes. Her orgasming walls squeezed his cock, and she cried out. She clenched her teeth, not wanting to scream. The orgasm was sharp and piercing. The divine sensation radiated through her eager body. He continued pumping, bringing his mouth to hers in a primal union of tongue. He loved every second of her orgasm. Her pussy was grade A quality and he couldn't get enough. This woman was every fucking thing plus more.

She was enjoying the feel of him inside of her. She couldn't wait for him to cum hard and fast inside of her tight pussy. He always felt good, even better during his primal release. No other man could infuriate, repulse, turn her on or make her feel special like Merle Dixon could. She forced his face closer to hers, wanting to deepen the kiss. Their bodies glistened with sweat, the union of their two bodies was truly otherworldly. Their sex was on fire.

He groaned in her mouth. "I can't wait to cum inside of your tight pussy," He growled. His control was slowly disintegrating. He wanted to fill her up to the brim with his hot and sticky cum. He found no greater pleasure than to mark her as his, the way nature intended. "I wanna make you mine over and over again!"

"Yes," She breathed. "Show me how much you need me."

He sped up his thrusts, scraping against her thigh and kissing her neck. Merle Dixon was an enigma as was she. He was incredible, beautiful...uniquely himself. "Fuck," He grunted, pounding into her hard and fast. "Yeah-!" He said, feeling himself explode inside of her. His orgasm hit him like a lightning bolt, electrifying and hot. His hips shook and he kept pumping like a madman until he was empty. She sighed in content, feeling the heat and wetness of his release. He gradually slowed down, finally stopping.  
Without warning he picked her up, he remained attached to her as he gingerly carried her to the bed. He fell on the bed with her in his arms. He looked at her, her eyes were shut. He smirked. He wore her out, mission accomplished.  
He slouched against her, burying his head against her wet breasts. Her eyes slowly opened. She cleared her throat, attempting to recover from her mind shattering orgasm. He eyed her in intrigue. "I wish that your pussy wasn't that good..." He mused.  
She laughed. "Why's that?"  
"Cause' you have me wrapped around your little mocha fingers." He mentioned with a half smile. He didn't mind being wrapped around her finger, she was a good woman. A mighty fine woman.  
She raised her brow in a playful banter. "Merle Dixon," She purred sweetly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were in love with me."  
In love? With HER? Shit, he didn't have enough hair on his balls to utter her name. Michonne, a woman so strong, yet so soft and gentle. In a way he felt unworthy, but she assured him, with her care and body that he is worthy, that he is loved. "Love" is the foreign word that he had never been told, nor had he breathed those words. He loved himself, and Darryl...in his own way. As foreign and elusive as that word was, Michonne deserved it. He wanted to be the man that gave it to her, he needed to be that man.  
"I- -" He halted the sentence, his tongue twisting and his heart doing backflips in his stomach. His palms began to sweat and his mouth dried out. What the fuck? Merle was a rough man, tough and unyielding...but when it came to lovely Michonne he was like a teenage boy after his first feel of bare tit.  
She kissed him, knowing the answer. She knew pushing Merle wasn't the best idea, he needed time to disclose all of his emotions.

He was thankful for her newfound understanding of him."Goodnight, my sweet chocolate drop." He purred, rubbing her face and kissing her one last time for the night.

Merle Dixon and his damn nicknames.

**I appreciate all the reviews and input everyone! I'm so obsessed with the Merle X Michonne pairing! (in case you guys couldn't tell haha). I want to start another story with them, but more smutty and adversarial maybe (?) lol. I'm a sucker for romance and I'll definitely be making a continuation of this story. I also want to explore other possible pairings in my mind (you guys gotta keep an eye out to find out which ones ;)). I have so many cool ideas for different stories but not enough time to write them in a day. Your reviews mean so much to me! Thank you all!**

**p.s: sorry about the false update, I received a few messages about it. I wanted to tweak this chapter a bit more so I took it down. I wanted to get my writing as perfect as I can (minus the weird spacing :/)! ^.^ **


	13. Chapter 13: Like PB&J

He woke up to find her rummaging through the fridge. He rolled over onto his stomach and lazily looked at her, his body sprawled out on the bed. "Whatchu' doin', girl?" He drawled with a loud yawn.

"Packing food for our trip back to the prison," She replied. "I also packed a bag with your clothes and whatnot."

He sat up, then standing up. He walked towards her and caressed her from behind, still naked. "What, you're not goin' to cuddle with me for a while?," He teased. "I'm not just a pretty face and a good time, ya know?"

She laughed, then turning around to kiss him. "I'm serious, Merle," She said, her light demeanor fading. "We need to go, it's almost sunrise."

He looked at her and sighed.

She put her hands on her hips. "You are going with me, right?" She asked impatiently.

"Yes, my chocolate love bunny." He chimed like an obedient husband. Damn. She had him trained already and he was dimly turned on by it.

"Then let's go!" She urged, emptying the contents of the fridge into a large bag.

"Alright," He grumbled, putting on his clothes and picking up his already packed bag. "Back to the shithole."

She finished packing the bag and looked back at him. "Don't be like that."

"Those bitches ain't my biggest fans," He replied. "They hold what happened in Atlanta over my head." He shrugged. "I was a rough son-um-bitch, I admit...and yeah, I was a racist pig...but-"

"Are you now?" She asked, turning around to face him.

He grinned. "I suppose' not, since I'm shackin' up with you." He said with a wink.

"People change, Merle," She said sweetly, looking up at him and putting her hands to his face. "You've changed."

His face softened and he caressed one of her hands. "Yeah," He mused. "People do." He gazed into her eyes for a moment.

She looked his body up and down, discreetly biting her lip. She did love his body...even in clothes. He smirked, taking notice of her staring. He laughed. "As much as I'd like a mornin' quickie," He put his arms around her. "We should go...right?" He teased.

She rolled her eyes, then tensing up as she felt his jutting hard-on pressing against her thigh. "Yes," She said with a labored nod. "We should go." She looked away from the temptation of his body.

He released her. "Alright, chocolate drop," He cajoled, kissing her playfully on the lips. She jumped in surprise of the feel of his tongue forcing its way through her teeth. "Let's go." He finally said.

After successfully sneaking out of Woodbury, Michonne arrived at the prison with Merle by her side. It was just like she set out to do. It was a beautiful day, given the crappy circumstances. The trip went without a hitch, minus a few pesky walkers. They made it minutes before sunrise.

"It's okay," She soothed, holding his hand as they stood at the gate. "I know what kind of man you are." She said with a wink.

He blushed. She knew him better than anyone.

Darryl walked up to the gate, grinning. "Hey lovebirds." He teased, opening the gate for them.

"Shut up, Darryl." Merle retorted in brotherly angst.

Michonne laughed.

Darryl looked at her. "You bought this crazy son-um-bitch back," His eyes narrowed. "I respect that...I guess." He said with a small shrug.

They walked into the prison, all eyes were on Merle. The group was weary, but Darryl and Rick vouched for him. Not to mention the fact that he was openly affectionate to a woman that he had clashed with in the past. "Do you wanna sleep in my cell with me?," Merle asked, licking his lips. "I'm feelin' kinda frisky." He whispered, gently caressing her ass. Merle must have had the libido of a 15-year old boy, not that she minded.

She playfully slapped his hand away. "All play and no work makes Merle a lazy boy." She teased.

He grunted. "Suppose' that you have a point," He placed his hand back on her ass. "Them Pilates classes or whatever you do does your ass mighty fine."

"I don't do Pilates, you idiot." She joked.

"Mmmm," He growled. "There's nothin' like the fine ass of a black woman," He touted with a feral grin, then nipping at her ear. His lighthearted demeanor went by the wayside when he saw Rick walking towards them. "Officer Fucking Friendly." He said through gritted teeth.

"Be nice." She warned, aware of the growing tension within him.

"The fuck I'll be nice to that-"

She silenced him with a kiss. She rubbed the back of his head. "Oh come on, Merle," She said sweetly. "Be nice, for me?"

"Shit," He said with a huff. "You know good and damn well that I can't resist your sweet ass." He whispered begrudgingly.

"Then don't." She teased, kissing him gently on the lips.

"Alright, girl," He said with a huff. "You win."

"Michonne," Rick said with a modest bow of his head. "Merle," He reached out his hand. "Glad to have you back with us."

Merle eyed Rick in apprehension, then finally caving. There was no point in rocking the boat more than he already did. Plus he gave Michonne his word. He firmly gripped his hand. "You wont have to worry bout' me," He assured. "I'm here for my Nubian Queen and my baby brother. You ain't gonna have no trouble out of me."

"Didn't say I would." Rick retorted.

Merle chuckled, then scoffing. "Like I don't know what's on your mind."

"I want to be civil, Merle," Rick emphasized. "I want a clean slate."

He shrugged. "Consider it clean then."

Rick smiled hopefully, then walking off.

Michonne smiled and kissed the side of Merle's cheek. "I'm proud of you."

His face turned beet red, realizing that Carol and Carl saw him. "What are y'all lookin' at?" He scowled.

"You're Michonne's boyfriend?" Carl asked in surprise.

"That's right, kid," He snorted. "And when all the lights are out...we bump uglies, all night long."

Carl cringed and Carol quickly covered his ears. "Gross!," He exclaimed, then walking away. "Ugh." Poor kid.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Seriously?" There's never a dull moment with Merle Dixon, that's for sure.

He laughed hoarsely and walked off. "I'm gonna take a piss," He grunted. "I'll meet you in bed, chocolate muffin."

Chocolate muffin? Huh, well again...she should count her blessings.

"How did this happen?" Carol asked, stunned at the sight of Merle Dixon being friendly towards Michonne. Prior to all of this he nearly killed everyone up in Atlanta, especially T-dog. If it wasn't for Rick they all would have been dead. She couldn't believe that Merle was so pliant with Michonne. It was a sight to behold.

"How did what?"

Carol busted out laughing. "My god, you're WITH Merle Dixon?," Her mind couldn't register it. "How did that...?" She figured that Merle and Michonne were like oil and water, but obviously they were like PB&J.

"He's still crude, but he's different." The fact that he was AMAZING in bed also helped his standing. "He's changed, Carol."

She sighed. "I see that, well that's good," She said. "You're good for him because you can keep him in line."

"No," Michonne corrected. "I'm good for him because we understand each other."

Merle listened intently as he sat outside of his cell waiting for her. They understood each other. She put up with his shit and embraced him. That kind of woman comes by once in a lifetime. He heard her footsteps.

"Hey." She said, putting her hands in her pockets.

He stood up.

"Ready for bed?" She inquired.

"No."

"What's wrong?" She asked, folding her arms.

"Come here," He said roughly, grabbing her by the arm. He embraced her. "What's with you?," She looked at him, a bit confused. "You make me wanna cuddle and shit...," He mused. "To be Mr. Fucking Romantic..." He grumbled.

"Strawberries and champagne under the stars while we listen to the walkers moan?" She joked.

"Hell yeah," He said with a smile. "You're worth it all." They went into the cell and Merle shut the door behind them. They laid down in bed and Merle held her against him.

She smiled, then looking up at him. "You know...," She put her hand to his chest and smoothed her hand over it. "For a homicidal redneck, you sure are cuddly." She teased.

"Just for you," He said, kissing her. "Only you." They had a great thing going and he didn't want it to end. He'd do everything in his power to have her. Nothing would get in his way, not those fucking walkers, or the Governor.


	14. Chapter 14: Redneck Romeo

Michonne woke up to a plate of smoked turkey and greens at her bedside. Merle was an amazing hunter, and most likely made use of Rick's vegetable gardens. She dug into the food and sighed in content. "Wow, this is good!" She said as she continued eating. Merle was the jack of all trades. Not only was he a sex machine, he was a good fighter...and a chef.

After eating she stood up and made her way to the shower. She heard one of the stalls being in use. She walked past it, seeing Merle leaning against the wall, his arm stretched out and his head against the wall, he had taken off his prosthesis and let his arm hang limply at his side. He exhaled deeply, letting the water run down his body. Her inner muscles subconsciously tightened, and she felt desire for that brutish, yet sweet man. He was built nice, with just enough muscle. She wanted to touch him, feel him against her, inside her. She took off her clothes and went to join him. It was chilly in the showering area, but she figured that Merle would warm her up just fine.

Merle jumped in surprise as Michonne caressed him from behind. He could feel the effects of her touch. Her hands were warm and giving against him. She was fucking irrestible and she knew it. His tense shoulders loosened and he exhaled, enjoying her sweet kisses on the back of his neck and the caressing of his chest. She slowly moved down, feeling the head of his already aroused cock. Merle must have been hard 24/7.

An attraction like this was too good to ignore, even in a world like this. He turned around to get a look at her soaking wet body. How could he deny a beauty like this? How could he deny- -? He couldn't. Good thing he gave up that fight long ago. He savagely kissed her on the mouth, bringing her body to his. The feel of her lips against his was divine, as always. Her lips were soft, plump and just for him. The kiss was deep, hot and sensual. She raked her fingers through his scalp as he bought her closer to his body. He was pressed against her, his muscular body against her lean frame. His erection jabbed at the front of her pussy as he caressed her round ass. He nibbled on her neck, then turning his attention to her breasts. He suckled on them, paying equal attention to each beautiful creation.

"Thanks for breakfast." She managed to say.

He exhaled. "Sure," He ran his fingers through her dreads. He was slowly getting used to them."You mind if I have mine?" He asked, looking at her with a dark gaze.

She smirked.

"What?," He asked impatiently. "You found me in here. I was mindin' my own business, you know?" He teased.

"Want me to leave?"

"Fuck no," He growled. "I want you too much to let your fine ass walk outta here unsatisfied."

"What do you want me to do?" She asked playfully, putting her hands on her hips.

Oh hell yeah, he liked that. Sassy and fucking beautiful. He had that delicious look in his eyes. "Turn around, bend over and let me fuck that sweet pussy til' you scream."

She obeyed him, hanging onto the railing.

"You look so fuckin' beautiful turned around and bent over for me," He mused, dropping to his knees. She nearly cried aloud as she felt his mouth and tongue graze her pussy from behind. "You look real good at this angle too, taste real good too." He said as he continued.

"Merle." She moaned. "Don't do this to me. Not now." She was all but begging him.

He stood up and she immediately felt his hard cock rubbing against her ass. "Girl," He purred, his breath hot against her neck. "I love it when you say my name." His voice was hoarse and sexy to her ears. "I love when you fuckin' beg me." He kissed the back of her neck.

Michonne was growing impatient. She rubbed her ass against him, in a teasing gesture. He took the bait and entered her pussy from behind with his searing heat. He shook against her, wanting to adjust to the new angle. She moaned. "Feels good already."

"I always feel like a damn virgin when I'm with you," He said with a half laugh. "I'm tryin' hard. Real hard not to cum quick." He shut his eyes and tilted his head upward.

"Well keep trying." She urged, pushing against him and deepening the angle.

"Goddamn," He groaned as he began pounding her from behind. He licked his lips. "Shit, this is so deep-," He gripped her body with his good arm and attempted to maintain the hold with his other arm. She savored each tantalizing stroke. The combination of him on her and the lukewarm water crashing onto there bodies was so hot. His breaths quickened as he kissed the back of her neck. "You feel so good-"

Passionate sounds of hot sex filled the spacious corridors of the showers. They had no regard for the running shower, or the people that could discover them. Nothing mattered but them. She put her face to his, sharing a lusty and wet kiss while he continued pounding her.

"Yeah babe...," He grunted. "I'm gettin' close. So goddamn close." He rubbed his stump against her pussy.

"Merle," She moaned, reaching back and digging her nails into his strong thighs. "Ahh..." He loved that too.

"Come for me, babe," He cajoled. "Show me how good I feel inside you," She cried out as she felt the heavenly fury of her orgasm. He smiled in satisfaction feeling her tightness convulse against his hard dick. He felt his own furious orgasm building inside him as he felt her ongoing orgasm. She moaned aloud, her breath quickening in her exhaustion. She rested her face against his. He smothered her mouth with his, muffling her loud sounds of release as he found his own. "Mmm...," He groaned, feeling his sharp orgasm pass through his body. His body stilled. "Yeah," He said, his voice husky. He came hard and fast. "I love fillin' your gorgeous pussy with my hot cum." He thrusted once more, emptying himself to completion.

"I love it." She said, leaning against him.

He flashed a feral smile. He was a stud and he knew it, but her pussy was top of the line.

Michonne's legs went limp under her. Merle quickly disconnected from her, whirled her around and held her in his arms.

"Wow," She said with a light laugh, still trying to catch her breath. "That was- -"

"Perfection," He blurted out, finishing her sentence. "Fuckin' perfection," He said between labored breaths. "You and me." He ran his fingers through her dreads and kissed her.

She held onto his sturdy body. "You have a way with words." She said, running her hands through his scalp.

"I'll say." They heard a voice chime.

Merle peered over the stall and saw Daryl walking by with a towel around his waist.

"Oh my God." Michonne whispered, mortified. He had heard. Everything. But one look from Merle and she began laughing hysterically.

"Baby brother," Merle said with a sigh. "You weren't by any chance listenin' to us knockin' boots in here, were you?" He asked, half embarrassed.

Daryl grinned. "Pshh, I think most everybody could hear y'all gettin' it on," He replied with his signature smirk. "Don't matter where we are, we can still hear ya'll."

Merle chuckled. "Well fuck, tell them bitches to cover there ears!"

Daryl scoffed. "Alright, redneck Romeo, once y'all are done meet Rick and the rest of us at the gate. He's gonna be assignin' runs for us." He made his exit, leaving an equally rattled and amused Merle and Michonne.

"Redneck Romeo?" She teased, still laughing.

He sighed. "That's my baby brother," He snorted, turning his attention back to her. "Always invadin' my privacy," He said with a smile. "But I kinda like the sound of that..."Redneck Romeo," He slicked back his hair and winked, getting another laugh out of Michonne. "Little son-um-bitch got all native on me though." He said with a hoarse laugh.

"I think we should actually wash up." She said, her laughter subsiding a bit.

"Oh, right...guess we should." He said, the objective of showering nearly leaving his mind.


	15. Chapter 15: The Beast Within

**Warning: intense language and graphic scenes of violence**

After finally taking their shower, Merle and Michonne made their way outside. They could see Rick and Daryl in the distance.

"Where's everybody else?" Merle inquired as they walked up to the gate.

"Glenn and Maggie went to do a medical supply run," He replied. "I'm going with Carl and Daryl to try a few adjacent police stations to find more weapons- -"

"You think there's still guns layin' around?" Merle asked in apprehension.

"We don't know unless we try." Rick replied with genuine conviction in his voice. Officer Fucking Friendly, a determined optimist through and through.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"What's our run going to be?" Michonne inquired.

"Judith needs formula," Rick replied. "Whatever you two can grab would be a great help."

Michonne nodded. "Ready, Merle?" She asked, looking back at him.

What the fuck? He's been reduced to going on fucking baby runs? Shit. He had talent and good combative abilities and he's on formula pick up and delivery. He bit his tongue. "Yeah." He finally said.

They began venturing to the nearby town. Again, no walkers. "Why aren't there that many walkers out?" Michonne asked, looking around suspiciously.

"Hell if I know," Merle said with a shrug, spitting on the ground. Merle Dixon was a gentleman through and through..."We'd best keep our eyes peeled anyhow," He paused. "But it is pretty strange." Merle couldn't help but to be curious too.

"Maybe they're migrating?"

Merle chuckled. "Them things are too stupid to migrate anywhere."

She shook her head at his dismissiveness.

"If they come, I'll send em' back to the fuckin' dead," He said with confidence in his voice. His testosterone must have been pretty high today. Nah, it's pretty high everyday. Merle Dixon was a bundle of aggression, overconfidence and primitive sex appeal. "Simple."

"Well one of us needs to be confident." She muttered, folding her arms.

"Relax, sweetheart," He soothed, throwing his arm around her as they continued walking. "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you."

She looked at him, with hope in her eyes. She didn't ask for a knight in shining armor, but Merle would gladly bear that cross for her.

After arriving into town they made a straight b-line for the pharmacy. Where there were condoms and pregnancy tests, there was baby formula and supplies.

"Let's see...," Michonne murmured. "Infant formula..." She scanned the disheveled aisles, as Merle did.

"Found some." She heard Merle say. She saw him looking at the tin, apparently in deep thought.

"That was fast," She said, impressed. She paused and walked up behind him. "You had kids?"

"No," He said with a half smile. "I wouldn't have done them no good anyhow."

"Why do you say that?" She inquired, leaning against him.

"Well, look at me," He said with a shrug, breaking away from her. "I'm not exactly humanitarian of the fuckin' year."

"Doesn't mean you couldn't be a good father." She retorted, smoothing her hands down his broad shoulders.

He looked back at her, a tinge of curiosity flooding him. "Did you..?"

"Have any kids?" She finished his sentence.

"Y-Yeah." He replied hesitantly, unsure of what response he was soliciting.

"Yes." She said, her voice crackling at her answer. "A son."

He bowed his head, realizing the gravity of the conversation. She never told him. She was a mother. She had had another man's baby first, not his. His stomach turned, realizing how one-sided and selfish that his feelings were. He had no right to want that with her. Not now. Not ever.

"His name was Andre...," She said, shutting her eyes at the mention of his name. She was still hurt by the loss, and always will be. There was no word to describe a mother or father that had lost a child, especially the way she lost her baby. She fought back the tears and continued talking. "I wasn't married, but I was with his father and we were happy...," She went on. "When everything happened- -" She cut herself off, feeling the tears flow. Immediately she felt herself in Merle's embrace.

He planted a flurry of kisses on her forehead and lips. "I'm sorry."

"You're a good man, Merle," She said, drying her eyes. "You would make a great father."

He dimly remembered that the times when they had sex they hadn't used protection. "We didn't use any rubbers, you know?" He mentioned, a sound of hope in his voice.

"Pregnancy isn't a possibility." He felt a pang of sadness hearing that. Him as a father would be a disaster, but her...her as a mother would be amazing. He was sure that she was. He would have loved to have seen her with a child. For that sake he would have loved to help give her another child.

"Why?"

"I always tried for another," She said, ashamed. "But I couldn't conceive..."

He was silent as he gazed at the child on the tin. In a world like this having a new family wouldnt be practical. But Merle felt some type of way. He thought of having kids. He didn't want them with just anyone, only her. She was probably the most beautiful woman pregnant...well, she was anyway but he wondered. It was probably best that he couldn't be a father anyway, he couldn't even give a good life to himself or Darryl. "I have the formula, let's go." He said. There were so many things that he hadn't known about her. Had anyone else known?

She watched him as he left the store. It dawned on her that he wanted kids, not that he'd come out and say it. She was devastated that she couldn't give him that. She had never seen him look such a way. He just kept walking. She sighed, watching him walk off haphazardly. He was in a deep thought, a deep thought that wouldn't end well.

"Merle!" She called out.

"Give me a minute!" He shouted back as he continued to walk.

She leaned against the wall, quietly sobbing. She jumped, hearing the sound of screeching tires. She peered out the window, seeing Martinez and his men scouring the area. "Shit," She whispered. "Merle is out there and I don't have a weapon!" She nearly fainted when she saw Andrea on the forefront, holding an AK47. She vaguely remembered Merle telling her that she tried to sleep with him. But this wasn't the time to be catty. She needed to get to safety. But first she had to find Merle. He seemed out of it, and that was the kiss of death for him. She just had to find him, but for now she needed to hide and duck these goons until they find what they're looking for and leave.

Deep down he had wanted to be a father, in a sadistic and ill fated way...it wouldn't be fair to the kids anyway. Having an amazing mother and a dud father. Hell, he knew what having a useless father was like...and his mother didn't exactly win Mother of the Year either. He leaned against a tree, sighing. His ear twitched, hearing the sound of an engine cutting off. "Fuck!" He swore under his breath. While he was being a whiny bitch he left Michonne all alone. Damn it. How was he going to get back to her now?

She crawled towards the back door and made her way towards Merle's direction. She was thankful to have found him.

He sighed in relief as he saw her making her way to him. "Shit, I didn't mean to leave you," He said as he walked towards her. "Come're sweetheart, and let me-," His calmness was shattered by a gunshot. His senses dulled, and his heartbeat slowed to a crawl. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through his brain. He heard the fucking sound, pinching his ears. The shot was close and he hoped to God that the bullet his him. But no, this was his fucking nightmare. "No," He finally said, reaching out to her. "NO!" His heart nearly gave out, he looked and saw Martinez a few feet back from her, gun aimed. That bastard was the least of his problems. She fell towards the ground and he knew. He caught her in his arms, kneeling on the ground. The fucking bullet got her. Not him. He was the asshole. Not her. It was him. He was the one. He fucking deserved it. All he could chant was "no" as he cradled her in his arms.

He shot her in the back. That fucking coward. "Babe- " He choked back his tears as he held her body to him. The blood was too much. Too fuckin' much. It was all over his hands. She was going to- -

The old Merle began to bubble to the surface. He saw red. He wanted blood. He was shaking. He wanted Martinez's head on a fucking stick. Merle screamed. It was his fault. He left her. He was a piece of shit. He didn't care about himself, he cared about her more and he couldn't even protect her. He couldn't do a goddamn thing right. Not a goddamn thing.

Martinez lowed his gun. "Well now, I caught myself a dead woman and a traitor."

Merle stood up, lunging at Martinez. "You bean pickin' son of a bitch!," He roared, slamming him in the head with his prosthesis. He hit his head with such force that he heard the crackle of his fractured skull. Martinez laid on the ground, barely moving. Merle walked over to him, kneeling down to his level. "You made the biggest fuckin' mistake of your life," He got behind him and slit his throat, slow and painful, just like he wanted to deal him. He pierced his gut, hearing a combination of gurgling and gasping. "That was for her." He swiped his gun and stood up.

He looked over at her, she hadn't moved. He wanted her to fucking get up and kiss him, hug him...even slap him. He wouldn't even care if she kicked him in the dick again. He was a lose cannon before her, he slowly began to take joy in the simpler things, like a good talk or laugh. Drugs and hell-raising wasn't even a forethought in his brain. All he wanted was her. But he couldn't even protect her. He wasn't good for himself. He wasn't good for Daryl. Who the fuck was he good for? He was a dumbass to think his effect on a woman like Michonne would be any different. He destroyed and broke every person he touched. He was the factor. He was the fucking problem.

In a disoriented frenzy he killed all of the Governor's men. He shot them all dead until he ran out of bullets, then he beat them to dead with his prosthesis. He was numb to all of there suffering. Hell, he enjoyed it. He wanted retribution for her. His blood ran hotter when he saw Andrea pointing her AK47 at him. "I will kill you before you get a chance to pull the trigger, just like I did to the beaner," He voice was harsh and sharp. "You might graze my shoulder but you'll be dead before another shot."

She stepped back, seeing Michonne laying on the ground in the distance. "My God..," She said under her breath. "Michonne!" She called out, slowly making her way over.

"Back the fuck up, bitch." He snarled, pointing his bayonet at her.

"I wasn't a part of this," She said, shaking her head. "My god, I didn't know she was still alive."

"Says the sack of shit pointing a gun at me." He snapped, his anger boiling over. "She was fuckin' alive before you Shitbags came here!"

All Andrea could do was stare at her dead friend.

He walked towards her body and fell to his knees, sobbing. She was his everything, and now he had nothing. "I...I loved her," He said, his voice softening. "I fuckin' loved her. But I was too much of a coward to say it," He rocked her back and forth, sobbing. He looked back at Andrea. "Is your loyalty to the Governor that deep?," He chuckled, still crying. "Must be nice to be able to kill innocent people and sleep at night."

Andrea flinched at that statement.

"She changed me," He mused. "But she's not around anymore so I can unleash the deepest depths of hell against the unfortunate souls that had a hand in her death," He said with a sinister smile. "So if you're gonna shoot, you'd best make it count, Blondie." He warned, standing up.

She raised her gun and he lunged for her. He knocked her down and straddled her and held her in place. She looked in his eyes, he was devoid of anything. She tried to fight him off and gasped as she felt Merle's hands around her throat. He was sobbing as he choked the life out of her. He could feel her slipping away. He released her, grabbing her gun and throwing it several feet away. She coughed and regained her breath.

"If I kill you I can't get to the Governor," He said, his brain regaining a bit of his logic. "I want her body to be buried at the prison," He demanded. "And then you can fuckin' take me back to Woodbury."

**This was one of the most emotional chapters in this story. I have read you guys' emails and reviews and got a lot of great suggestions. Though this chapter and the next one have already been written in full, the story is far from over. Thank you all for your comments and reviews! :D**


	16. Chapter 16: Nine Lives

They had rode back to the prison, that must've been the longest ride of Merle's life. He sat in the back of the green army jeep with Michonne laying across his lap. She was still warm, but she didn't feel how she usually felt against him. His anger filled brain was plotting and thinking. Why the fuck did he leave her? Why? He shook his head of the thoughts, only for them to come back. She was his sanity, his moral compass...his reason to like this horrid life a tad bit more, and the fucking Governor snuffed her beautiful life out just like that. With one fucking order.

He wanted the bullet to hit him, he'd give anything to switch places with her. He kissed her lukewarm cheek. He hated Andrea, nearly killed her. But he needed her for his personal mission. So for the sake of avenging Michonne, he would play nice.

The jeep slowed to a crawl, finally making it's way to the prison's gate. He saw Rick standing watch at the tower. He stepped out of the jeep, with Michonne's body in his arms.

Rick immediately ran down the tower. "Hershel!" He called out with all his voice. No. No. No more loses. Not other one. Rick opened the gate, noticing Andrea in the driver's seat. "Why is- -?"

Hershel carefully rose from his bed, his old joints cracking in protest.

"Daddy!," Maggie urged, standing in the doorway of his cell. "Come on! It's Michonne!"

"What happened to her?," Carol asked, placing Judith in her crib. "Is she injured?"

"I don't know!," Maggie exclaimed with growing concern in her voice. She ran to her cell and woke up Glenn. "Get up! It's Michonne!"

After a few brief mumblings Glenn sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Is she okay?" He asked.

"I don't know! But that tone of Rick's voice is never anything good!" He stood up and followed her as she raced outside.

"Carol, please get the newly stocked first aid kit in the infirmary and meet me outside." Hershel said, easing up off of the bed. He made his way through the corridor, seeing Rick and Merle standing by the gate.

"She was with the shitbags who killed her," Merle said, not looking away from Michonne's body. "She's gonna take me to the governor when I bury her."

"I can go with you!" Rick assured.

"No," He snapped. "I fucked up. It's my sin to bear." Merle was deeply wounded.

Rick shook his head. "You're not thinking rationally, Merle," He said, wanting to reason with the broken man. "She was one of us too, we can all- -"

"She was the fuckin' love of my life," He said angrily. "I fuckin' loved her!"

Herschel, Maggie and Glenn made their way to the gate.

"I will destroy that prick." Merle said with malevolence.

"The Governor did this," Rick said coldly. The whole group was angry. Despite their conflicts with Merle they could see how much he had changed, how happy he was with Michonne. She was a friend to them all, and they all felt for Merle and wanted revenge all the same. "I'm going with Merle, back to Woodbury."

"No the fuck you ain't!" Merle scowled. "It's my cross. Nobody else's."

"No!," Rick yelled. "It's the least I can do," He looked around. "Where's Daryl?"

Carol made her way to the front gate, first aid kit in hand. " Oh no..." Carol said, covering her mouth and shaking her head. She handed off the aid kit to Hershel and looked at Merle. She could see it in his eyes, he was broken. A man she hadn't thought could shed a tear for anything was nearly sobbing. He was vulnerable and so human.

Daryl and Carl ran up and united with the rest of the group.

"Shit, man!" Daryl yelled, throwing his crossbow on the ground. He looked back at his wise-ass brother, a brother that hadn't cared about anything. That same man was breaking down.

"Is she going to be okay?!" Carl asked.

Hershel walked over to Merle. "May I?" He asked, gesturing to touch her neck. Merle nodded giving him permission. Hershel surveyed her pulse and smiled.

"Whatchu' smilin' for, old man?" Merle asked, raising his brow.

"Her pulse is slow, nearly at a crawl," He said with hope. "But she hasn't passed."

A gust of breath escaped Merle's chest, and his knees nearly went weak underneath him. She had a chance. She had a fucking chance.

"She'll need blood though- -"

"Give her mine!" Merle said without thinking. All that mattered was that she was okay. Hershel looked at him for a moment, then nodding.

"Have her in the infirmary and I'll gather the machines." Hershel replied as he made his way back towards the cell block.

Merle carried her to the infirmary, he held her snuggly against him. "You're gonna be okay." He whispered to her. He hadn't realized how petite she was until he held her snug against him like a baby. First thing he'd do when she recovers is fix her a hearty meal.

Daryl walked with Hershel to the infirmary. "She has a pulse, huh?," Daryl said with a smile. "Why were we even worried? Michonne is one tough broad."

"That's the God's honest truth," Hershel mused. "Her pulse was nearly non-existant, she lost a great deal of blood...not to mention she was cool to the touch."

"How you explain that?," Daryl asked, rubbing his chin. "A miracle?"

"No," Hershel replied meekly. "This had to be God. Because she was surely dead before."

Daryl chuckled. "Our girl got nine lives."

**This chapter is a tad shorter than what I usually put out. I feel horrible about the last chapter. I got so many sad emails. Hope you guys didn't actually think that I'd kill off Merle's beloved ;). Most events in these chapters have logic to their madness. The significance of the last chapter's events will be understood soon! Thanks again for your reviews and emails! **


	17. Chapter 17: A Sheriff and a Sergeant

Merle sat by Michonne's bedside. He was connected to the machine along with her. His body was taxed from the 3 previous transfusions, but he didn't care. "She need any more?" He asked with a raspy voice. He was sweating profusely and refused to eat. He was determined to see her well.

"You need to slow down," Hershel heeded. "Your cells need extra time to regenerate."

"I don't care!," Merle barked, his voice hoarse and fleeting. "Give her all that she needs from me!"

Hershel shook his head.

"Please," He asserted, gently grabbing at Hershel's overall strap. "Please Hershel," He pleaded, looking him dead in the eye. "I need to save her the way I couldn't hours ago."

Hershel looked into the eyes of a pleading and deeply conflicted man.

"Maybe it's my fuckin' ego...or pride...or whatever," He coughed. "But I need to do somethin'!," He shut his eyes. "Take what she needs, and if I don't survive then oh well," He sighed. "No one'll fuckin' mourn me." He muttered, shutting his eyes.

"Don't talk that way," Hershel scolded. "Rick and everyone are in your corner."

"Because of her."

"Because of both of you," Hershel corrected. "Sure, we weren't all best of friends in the beginning, but we know that you aren't an evil man. Michonne wouldn't let you close if she thought so either."

Merle laughed. "Right."

"Thats enough blood, Hershel said, throughly inspecting the meter on the machine. "She's stable now."

Merle gingerly plucked the tubes from his arm and stood up. He staggered, nearly hitting the ground. He was shocked to see Glenn valiantly lifting him up, putting his arms under his. He paused. "You- -"

"Don't mention it." Glenn quickly said. He hadn't forgotten what he did to him and Maggie, but as of now big bad Merle seemed more human. He was only a man desperately in love. In that regards they were the same. He was less of an asshole to him for laying down his health and life to save Michonne's. Racist, bigots had hearts too.

Hershel smiled at Glenn lending a helping hand to his former enemy.

"Thanks." Merle said, breaking from Glenn's grip. He hobbled out of the infirmary.

"Where are you going?" Glenn asked, walking to catch up with him.

"I'm going to the garden." He replied. "What of it?" He asked defensively.

"Nothing.." Glenn said, taking a hint.

Without Michonne to cool him down Merle was as cantankerous as ever.

Beth and Carol tended to the fences, killing the walkers that were trying to infiltrate the steel fences. Carol looked away from her work, seeing Merle venturing out to the gardens.

"Is he okay?" Beth asked.

Carol silently watched him, and was pleasantly surprised when she saw him picking flowers.

"Aww!," Beth exclaimed. "It's so cute how Merle loves Michonne so much!"

Carol smiled to herself. That big idiot surely loved her. She guessed that it was more than a fling or something to pacify him. She laughed aloud as she saw him inspecting the daisies that he savagely ripped from the ground. He tucked them underneath his shirt and went on his merry way.

He hoped that she would wake soon. He was lost and lonely without her.

"Merle." He heard Daryl call out.

"The fuck you want, baby brother?," He asked defensively. "You gonna make fun of me for cryin' like a bitch?"

Daryl scoffed. "No, dumbass," He sneered. "I'm makin' sure you're alright."

"I'm fine." He grunted, walking away. He went back to her bed side. Merle was grumpy alright. He was ashamed of his weeping, but more importantly he was haunted by the fact that he was the reason why she got hurt. He sat down and watched her attentively, her chest moving up and down between breaths. She was stable but she hadn't awakened yet. He was glad that she would pull through. But on the other hand, he was exhausted. He rested his head against her chest, drifting into a deep sleep. He felt comfort in her body heat, meshing with his own.

4 days passed and Merle woke up to the feel of fingers in his scalp. His heart jumped in response to the sensation. He looked up, seeing her smiling at him. "I love the flowers." She said happily.

He looked away from her, closing his eyes.

"Merle?" She said, trying to coax a response from him.

"I don't deserve you." He said, sitting up in the chair. He turned away from her and faced the wall.

"What?"

"It was my fault!," He emphasized, looking back at her briefly. "It's my fault that Martinez shot you."

"Where is he now?" She asked.

"With the dead." Merle said, not looking at her.

"What?"

"I killed him...damn near decapitated him," He said with a hint of shame in his voice. "I lost it...killed the whole squad."

"Andrea?"

"Around," He said, breathing deeply. "Nearly killed her," He mentioned in a matter of fact way. "But then I thought, I want to kill that prick Govenor. So I spared her so I could bring you here for your burial-"

"But?"

"Hershel could feel your pulse when I couldn't while we were in town," He hunched his shoulders and looked at the ground. "He saved you, not me."

"That's not true at all." Merle heard Hershel chime. He stood in the doorway, looking at them both with genuine compassion and warmth in his eyes.

She smiled at Hershel. "Thank you."

"I supplied the machines for the transfusions, old Merle here supplied the blood," He said meekly.

"I had a transfusion?"

"You had lost so much blood, but I found a slow pulse and opted to do the procedure immediately."

"You and Hershel were both blessings to me," She assured, slowly sitting up. She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Without his expertise I wouldn't be here, but without your blood I wouldn't be here either."

"Did you need anything else?" Hershel asked.

"No, I'm okay," She said, turning her gaze back to Merle. "Thank you again, Hershel."

He smiled and made his exit.

The whole group congregated into the room and Merle discreetly left. It was his damn fault that she was in that infirmary bed. He went to his cell and shut the door before plopping on the bed.

"Open this door," Daryl said, looking in between the bars. Merle begrudgingly opened the cell door, allowing him in. He leaned against the wall, peering at him between the thick hairs laying slightly near his eyelashes. "What happened?"

"While we were doin' the run somethin' got to me," He said under his breath. "I fuckin' left her there...and by a stroke of bad fuckin' luck, the Govenor's soldiers rolled through town," He lowered his head. "Martinez shot her. I fuckin' let him-"

"When was my big brother a whiner?" Daryl muttered.

"What the shit did you just say to me?!" He scowled, his southern temper flaring.

"Good or bad choices you fuckin' own em'," Daryl said, tightly gripping his crossbow. "The fuck you think this is, fantasy fuckin' island?"

"No. "Merle grunted.

"You're a standup guy that did right by her," He said, smoothing his hand through his messy hair. "Can't do no better than that."

Merle chuckled. "You were always the sweet one, my baby brother."

"Shit, don't get all sentimental on me," Daryl said with a smirk. "You gonna stay in here all night?"

"Yeah." He said gruffly. "I need to think."

"Well relax," Daryl said, slapping him on the back. "She's gonna be alright!" He said, making his way out of the cell and shutting the door behind him.

Merle laid on his bed and sighed. She's going to be okay. But he feared that his pride wouldn't ever be.

"I figured that you'd be here, Houdini," He heard Michonne tease, she abruptly let herself in his cell. "What's wrong?"

"I'm a fuckin' joke," He replied in shame. "I'm the baddest son-um-bitch on this side of Georgia, yet I cried like a bitch...," He went on. "I couldn't even protect you."

She rubbed the side of his face with her hand. It was so soft against his rough skin, a gentle gesture such as that was a welcomed luxury. "Don't say those things," She soothed, kissing his forehead. "You fought for me, got me to safety, and gave me your blood," She went on. "You saved me." She said, assuring him.

He kissed her gently on the lips, another luxury that he had missed.

"You're a beautiful man, Merle."

He blushed. "Sugar," He remarked with his sourthern drawl. "I've been called many-a names, but beautiful ain't never been one of them."

"You are to me."

He ripped her hand from his face, then sighing. "Don't be quick to believe in my good will."

"And what does that mean?" She asked, raising her brow.

"I'm still a bastard, you know?" Merle had a reputation to keep. He hadn't wanted to get all soft and limp, sexually or otherwise. He hesitated and she nearly lost her life because of it. He had to be hard and unyielding. Like before. Before he fell head over heels in love with that Nubian hellcat.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I can't keep you safe if I'm all-" He cut himself off, mid sentence.

"If you're all what?" She prodded, looking him dead in his eyes.

Head over heels, desperately in love with you. That's what he wanted to say...only in a more crude and uniquely Merle Dixon way. "If I'm all soft and shit." He finally said.

She sighed. Merle was a sensitive man deep down, and she found that refreshing. However, it seemed to plague him when it came to her. "You feel like less of a man because of what happened?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I feel."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Leave it alone." He demanded.

She eyed him in intrigue. "How are you so sure...that it doesn't matter?" The bite of that question hit him like a punch to the gut. Was she uncertain of him as a man? He felt like shit enough, but he attempted to do right by her. Hell, his own blood was flowing through her veins. She acknowledged all those things, and still questioned him. She still picked and prodded.

"I won't let anyone get away with hurting you," He replied. "I'll defend the honor of your life!" He asserted, pushing away his hurt and frustration.

"Rick told me about your plan to go to Woodbury." He mentioned, folding her arms.

He scoffed. "Officer fucking friendly strikes again."

"I don't want you to go!" She said, pleading with him.

He looked at her in shock, then shaking his head. "I'm goin'," He retorted. "I'm goin' to string the Governor up by that fuckin' eyepatch."

"I don't want you to go!" She said again, still pleading.

"This life ain't about getting what we want,". He mused. "Or what we think we should have." He was a bumbling little bitch that had no rights to stake claim on her. She needed a real man, not him.

She was astutely in-tune to his insecurities. "Why do you feel that way?" She asked, folding her arms.

"Don't matter why."

She stood up, and put her hands on her hips. "Fine."

He looked up at her. "Good," He fired back. "I'm gonna defend you best when you hate the fuck out of me anyway." He stood up and left the room.

She sighed, falling back into bed. Oh come on!

Merle stomped throughout the prison, ranting and raving to himself. He stood outside of the cell block, catching a bit of well-missed sunlight. He had a one-track mind, protecting Michonne, not as a lover or boyfriend, but as a neutral party with no feelings. That would keep her alive. Not cooked meals, good talks or laughs. It all meant nothing when faced in a life or death situation.

He looked across the horizon and saw yet another army jeep. "Officer friendly! We gots company!" He yelled across the yard.

Rick ran out of the cell block, gun drawn. "Who is it?"

"Don't know," He said under his breath, quickly scanning the area. "Should I shoot?" He asked, bringing out his pistol.

"No, let's wait and see who they are first." Rick replied, looking up from his aimed sniper rifle.

The Jeep slowed and three people made there way out of the vehicle. 2 males and a female. From the far distance Rick and Merle saw a tinge of red.

"Huh," Merle scoffed. "We have a carrot top in the group."

"Are you friends or foes?!" Rick yelled at them.

"We're friends!" The auburn-haired man said, raising up his hands and gesturing his two companions to do the same.

That gesture seemed to ease Rick's worries.

"What about you all, and whoever else is with you?" The man asked.

"We're friendlies!," Rick replied. "We have children, so it would be in both of our interests not to do anything irrational."

"Walk a little closer," Merle commanded. "And y'all best keep y'all's hands where I can see em'." He warned.

They slowly moved up. The female was young, about early 20s maybe. She had long, brunette hair that was primly done into two pigtails. The male behind her had long black hair that was tied into a ponytail. He was a peculiar looking man, but he appeared to be non-threatening.

The auburn-haired man however was on another level. The man was stocky and muscular. He wore a grungy white tank top and green combat pants, in addition to black army boots. He donned an auburn handlebar mustache and a hard face. He looked back with piercing green eyes and a plaint expression on his face. He seemed different from the other two, but Rick couldn't place it. He was most likely there leader.

"What brings you to these parts huh, carrot top?" Merle asked, apprehensive and thriving off of his building adrenaline.

The man laughed. "Haven't heard that insult since grade school." Despite his red hair he seemed calm. Too calm.

"Bet you haven't," Merle said defensively. "But I asked a question," He snapped. "So talk."

"Hey, you asshole!," The female yelled. "You can't talk to Abraham like that!," She seethed. "I'll have you know that he could kick your- -" The other male quickly covered her mouth.

"That girl has a mouth on her," Merle mused, looking at Rick. "And I ain't too fond of it."

"Shut up!," The other man retorted. "Do you want them to mow us down?!" He asked, exasperated and nervous.

The auburn-haired man sighed. "Forgive my crew's stupidity, my name is Sergeant Abraham Ford."

"Well ho-ly shit," Merle said with a smirk, looking at a floored Rick. "A Sergeant."

**Im slowly beginning to weave in a plot, in addition to the Merle/Michonne dynamic. My chapters will be longer, as I don't want to get to chapter 50 by submitting bits and pieces like I have been doing (Lol). The numbers snuck up on me (haha)! Thanks again for all the reviews and emails! I truly enjoy reading them and writing too! Thanks! **


	18. Chapter 18: Jealous

"What do you want with us?" Rick asked, slowly easing down his gun.

"We're looking for a safe haven for our travels," Abraham replied, his hands still raised. "We're on an important mission." He went on, urgency evident in his rough voice.

Merle silently looked to Rick, remembering to keep a lid on his smart-ass demeanor. Michonne was in the prison too. He failed protecting her once and he wouldn't do it again. There was no way he'd do anything to compromise her.

"What mission?" Rick asked.

"A cure for this plague." The peculiar man said, he looked awkward as he maintained his rigid posture.

Merle laughed aloud. He couldn't help himself. Who were these people anyway? Surely they had lost their screws. "A cure, huh?," He mused, the sarcasm evident in his snarky voice. "And I'm John fuckin' Lennon." He stared down the group like a suspicious wolf.

"I shit you not, brother," Abraham assured. "This is Eugene Porter," He went on, gesturing to the man. "He was a head scientist from Washington D.C.-"

"What of it?" Rick inquired. He was still weary of these people, but he wanted to hear them out.

"He knows what caused this scourge."

Rick looked at Merle, and he looked back at him. Merle's interest piqued. A cure. "What yall Yankees know about a cure?," He asked sharply, still holding his gun. "This a inside job?!"

"Hey now!," Abraham retorted angrily. "I'm no Yankee, you fuckin'-"

"Shut up, Merle!" Rick exclaimed. Damn it. This was no time for arguing. In all honesty he couldn't read any of these people, especially Abraham. He and the group had to be mindful of every word; as everything has a consequence, especially in this world. He would not let this be the proverbial Atlanta episode.

He smiled and bit his tongue. The things he did for his Nubian beauty... He looked back and saw Michonne walking towards them. His heart sped up in fear for her. "Go back inside, gal!" He said gruffly, hiding his concern. She could potentially die if he was all googly-eyed over her.

She scoffed, putting her hands on her hips as she made her way to them. "You don't own me, Dixon!" She said, making her way past him. Fuck. He hated when she used his last name like that. She had such bite and distain in her once gentle and sincere voice.

"Damn it, girl," Merle bellowed. "I said get the hell back in there!," He yelled. "Ain't nothin' to see!"

"Bullshit," She snapped. "You're holding a Seargant at gunpoint and you're telling me that there's nothing to see?"

Abraham looked at her in intrigue. "How'd you know that?"

She walked closer to the gate, peering at Abraham. "Becuase I know," She replied, eying him sharply. "That demeanor...the hair. As well as the stature. Just like I was astute enough to know about Merle's military background, I'm privy enough to see similar characteristics," Merle was stunned, he hadn't told her but she knew. How? And why the fuck was she eying carrot top like that?! "You're not a threat, only an asset." She deduced.

Rick was silent, his mind going a mile a minute. Michonne had a 6th sense about people. A formally reclusive woman, she turned into a very vocal and stable ally. Her vocalness paired with her already impeccable intuition proved to be an asset in regards to dealing with other survivers.

Abraham smiled at her moxie and perceptive mind.

The fuck is he smiling at? Merle had the strong urge to claim dominance. "You wanna let these people in?!," He asked mockingly. He looked over at the conflicted Rick. "Friendly, come on now!" He muttered, concerned about Rick's logic. Shit he was going to cave. He was gonna let these people in.

"Tell me about the cure!" Rick demanded. Damn it. That was it. That carrot topped son of a bitch just got a free pass into their fort.

"Can't do that unless you give us a haven," Abraham pressed. "It'd be in your best interests to see us in," He said, his voice rough and persuasive. "We all wanna survive, am I right?"

That statement struck a cord with Rick, as well as Michonne's logic with the situation.

Merle was irritated with Michonne. She had more pull with Rick than anyone else...besides Carl. "Get the fuck back in the prison!" He demanded. He wouldn't let these people get in and compromise their wellbeing.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!," She yelled, walking up to him and getting in his face. "You don't talk to me like that!"

His jaw tensed. "Fine," He sneered. "Please. Get the fuck back in the prison."

"Screw you!" She exclaimed, walking away and back towards the fence.

"The fuck you think you doin', gal?!" He inquired accusingly.

"I'm letting these people in!" She yelled back.

"No the fuck you ain't," He retorted, running after her. He grabbed her by the shoulder, then scooping her up. Her face pressed against his back and she defiantly kicked her legs against his stomach. He winced, then tightening his grip as he carried her back towards the prison. "Friendly, do whatever your lil' heart desires," He said. "But as for this hellcat, she ain't gonna be nowhere near em'."

She yelled and pounded his back with her balled up fists. "Put me down, you brute!"

"You have no idea how turned on I am right now," He whispered to her, smacking her ass. His feral grin shined through, hearing her whine. "You're so damn cute when you whine and bitch to me."

"You just don't want me near that man!," She yelled. "You're so damn jealous!" She accused.

Daryl and Carol eyed the bickering couple curiously.

"Go outside and talk to Rick...since your idiot brother carried me away from there like a damn doll!" She exclaimed as Merle walked past him and Carol.

Daryl looked at her blankly. "Alright, I'll get the others too."

He smacked her ass once more. "You are my doll, sweetheart."

Carol still couldn't wrap her mind around Merle and Michonne's relationship. One minute they were having loud, animal sex, the next they were bickering and fighting like two teenaged lovers. She hadn't seen a couple quite like them.

"Shut it, you idiot!"

"What happened to your Redneck Romeo, huh?," He said sharply. "You're all about lettin' that carrot top in!"

"Are you jealous!?" She asked, exasperated. Merle Dixon was jealous of another man. A man that they didn't even know.

"How'd you know that I was in the military?!," He growled. "Have you been doin' research on me?!"

"No, you idiot! It's because I know people," She snapped. It was the way he moved and fought, how callous he was to it all. He surely had to know conflict. "Well why didn't you tell me?!"

"Shit," he said with a sigh. "Don't like to talk about it," He muttered. "But it was good for me, helps me survive."

"I'm going back out there." She finally said.

"No you ain't," He retorted, grabbing her arm and looking her in the eyes. "Friendly is gonna do what friendly does, which is cave."

"I'm going back."

He huffed. "Fine, gal. You're as stubborn as a damn mule," He said, shaking his head. "I'm dead tired anyways." He said, walking back to his cell. That woman was so damn stubborn, but it was hot as it was frustrating for him. He stripped down to his boxers and closed the door, he was glad he was the only resident of the 2nd tier. Beth and those other gals were walking around...he didn't want to be accused of indecent exposure. He valued his privacy and space from the rest of the group.

He felt her hot kisses on his neck and upper back. He let out a content sigh as she massaged his back, he hadn't been self-conscious of his scars anymore. Those insecurities were but a forethought to him. All his wounds extended past the hard exterior of his battered body. Her hands felt too nice. He jumped, feeling her hands against his chest, then his stomach. "Merle?" She chimed sweetly.

"Why you here, gal?" He asked, looking back at her. His cock twitched and came to life to her touch. She discreetly caressed him through the thin fabric of his boxers. The question immediately slipped his mind. "Fuck...," He groaned, feeling her hands against him. She reached into the open fly of his boxers and grabbed a firm hold on his hard cock. He licked his lips. "You know I like it rough, sweetheart," He growled. "Make it feel good." At this stage he was a clusterfuck of emotion...and he didn't like it. Michonne could sense it. She knew that this was the only way to make a man like Merle Dixon feel good. It was the wrong message to send, but she knew that this was the only way he could feel like a man. She continued teasing his hard cock with one hand and caressing his chest with the other. He felt so hard and alive against her hands, yearning to be touched. He was a conflicted man, but a simple man nonetheless.

"Stand up and take off your boxers."

She didn't have to tell him twice. She watched him pull down his boxers, and was in awe as they fell to the floor. She could eye him all day and not get tired of it. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw that he was fully hard already. She stood up and began taking her clothes off, slowly. He watched her, his cock dripping in anticipation. She was torturous in the removal of her clothes, slow, and so fucking sexy. She was beautiful and she asserted her power over him.

"Baby," He growled. "Will you touch me?," He inquired. "I'm dyin' here," He whined, caressing his engorged cock. She kissed him deeply and removed his hand from his cock. "Touch me." He demanded, nearly going insane with desire.

"Get on the bed."

He did so. "Shit, you're bossy." He teased, then freezing up as he watched her kneel down to him. He remembered their last encounter and his cock twitched in excitement. He was the epitome of male sex appeal as he looked at her. His blue eyes were dark and his legs were spread far apart as he leaned against his arm and prosthesis for support.

She kneeled down and caressed him with her hand first, then slowly trailing the base of his cock to the tip with her index finger. He cursed and flexed against her hand. "Nervous?"

He grunted. "Fuck no."

She laughed. "This is round two, and I want to finish this round," Round one of oral sex was the pre-sex foreplay. Now it was the sex, he nearly lost his mind thinking about her mouth and soft lips against him. He was a sniveling bitch the last time, begging her to stop...but the fuck if he didn't want it now. He just didn't want to be a minute man. "So let me give you what you've been dreaming about." She asserted with a smile.

"You're so fucking sexy when you talk like that-" He whispered. Merle was a kinky fuck, he loved rough and dirty sex. He enjoyed the pain and pleasure of it, there was nothing like it. "I missed you so fuckin' much."

She smiled and put her mouth to him, gently kissing the head of his cock. He moaned aloud. "Shh," She whispered against him. She continued kissing it, It was moist and tasted of musk and his essence. "I can't have you screaming in here."

"Well why do you have to make it feel so goddamn good?!" He asked in frustration.

She appeared to ignore him, then running her tongue down his hot length. She licked him slow, from base to tip. "Because you want it like this."

He panted as she slowly took him into her mouth. She guided him in and out. The feel of her lips and mouth on his hard cock was out of this world. "No one else sucked my dick like you," He shuttered as he felt her go down on him. She had no mercy, and that's how he liked it. "No. Fucking. Body."

"Is that why you were so grumpy in Alanta?" She teased.

"Darlin'," He cajoled, reaching back and running his hand down her neck. "Grumpy was an understatement." He said with a low chuckle.

She made a sound of content as she took him back into her mouth, in and out in a rhythmic movement. His body tensed up once more. She was teasing him at this point. She was nowhere near wanting him to be satisfied just yet. "This is probably the best that you've gotten." She mused.

"Did I mention how fuckin' attractive I find your modesty?," He joked, then moaning as he felt her against him once more. He licked his lips. "Mmmm..., yeah...," He leaned back, balancing on his arm and prosthesis. He looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. She suckled as his engorged head, then bringing him into her mouth once more. He felt the dreaded brow sweat happening, and he nearly screamed, feeling her lips suckle around him. "Fuck," He breathed. "You know how I like it," He grunted. "Come here," He demanded. She slowly looked up from her work. She had those dark, defiant eyes. She wanted him to finish as much as he did. "Come here, girl." He snapped, trying to catch his breath. Old Merle was ragged and on the brink of satisfaction, but he loved the suspense and torture until then. He also wanted to taste her.

"You didn't like what I was doing?"

"That's a dumb fuckin' question, of course I did!" He replied.

"Then why stop me?"

"I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours first," He said, his voice dark. "I want to service you like the fuckin' queen that you are."

God knows, Merle Dixon did that every time. He was a ball of raw male, sexual energy and she enjoyed every encounter and fight. Surely he was the one for her.

"You don't need to," She pressed. "I wanted to do that for you."

"This is for me too," He quickly said. "So lay down on your fuckin' back and let me eat out that sweet thing," Merle Dixon was a rough man, and it showed in bed. Michonne loved every bit of it. He licked his lips. "I ain't had my dessert yet," She laid down for him, he stood up and enjoyed the view of her. "So spread them legs for me, sweetheart," He cajoled, his Southern accent gracing her ears. "Nice and wide so I can get my fill."

He kneeled down to her, face to face with her womanly essence. He rubbed and kissed each thigh and began slowly teasing her with his tongue. It was her turn to feel the sweet torture. He had failed her on the outside world, the least he could do was satisfy her in bed. She had never been eaten out by a man like Merle Dixon. She arched her back and dug her nails into his scalp as he licked and slurped her juices. He made a grunt of approval as he kept his face where he craved it the most. He sucked and nibbled at her swollen clit, smearing his mouth against her womanly essence. His rough beard was prickly, but it only heightened the sensation for her. He furiously drank from her, nuzzling his nose against her.

"Mmmm...Dixon." She said hoarsely through her parted lips.

He rested his prosthesis on her stomach as he continued exploring her deep, then massaging her clit with his eager finger. He briefly came up for air, licking his lips. "Damn, your pussy is my weakness," He said, rubbing his prosthesis against her stomach. She winced at the cool metal against her unsuspecting skin. She smiled in undeniable satisfaction, remembering that his finger was still teasing her. She cried out, feeling him abruptly slide in his index and middle finger inside her. His fingers were thick, rough and hot. He tortured her from the inside out and she writhed against him. He bought his fingers in and out...in and out in jagged movements of his hand. She faintly looked down at him, his face was anguished and the head of his cock glistened with his delectable pre-cum. "Shit," He groaned as he kept fingering her. "I really wish I had my other hand."

She laughed faintly, then tightly clenching the bedsheets. She was determined to fight off his primal assault against her sex, she didn't want to scream.

He smiled. "You laughin' at me?," He inhaled, then exhaled deeply. She could feel his cool breath against her moist pussy, "Well, I'm gonna torture your sweet pussy til' you come," He said, removing his hand and placing his mouth back to where he wanted it. He smoothed his hand over his hard cock as he continued licking her. She could feel the tantalizing pressure building, within minutes she was there. She arched her back, moaning aloud. "Yeah," He said with a raspy tone. "That's what I like to hear."

She sighed, trying to catch her breath."Do you want me to- ?"

"No," He quickly said. "Let me make myself come while I lick your gorgeous pussy clean," He growled, speeding up the friction of his hand against his cock. He licked her furiously, lapping up the remnants of her crippling orgasm. He was startled by her sitting up. "What are you doin', gal?!"

"I came, so let me make you come." She insisted, looking back at him. She supported herself with her arms, her legs spread wide apart. That was a wonderful sight to Merle's eyes. Surely she posed better than him.

She was too fucking hot. Too damn hot for her own good. "Mmm...gal, if you put my dick in your mouth now it wont take long for me." He warned, looking up at her. He cursed, feeling her hand on his cock.

"You made me feel good, let me make you feel good," She said, gesturing to the bed. "Relax and let me..."

He smirked. "Shit, you always make me feel good- -" He paused, sitting back on the bed. She took him into her mouth and sucked him. He moved his hips against her mouth, thrusting in and out as she continued. He dug his fingers into her dreads, licking his lips. He titled his head back and felt his eyes roll back. He breathed heavily and continued fucking her mouth until he felt his hot release. He cursed furiously as he emptied himself down her throat. No one gave head like her, he'd had a lot but no one came close to her.

She made a sound of approval as she dutifully swallowed all of his come. He sighed, looking down at her. He pulled out, falling against the bed. He was exhausted. "Come're, gal." He said, his voice ragged.

She met him on the bed, nuzzling against him. They shared a deep kiss, each getting a taste of their own sex. This woman was everything. When he wasn't with her, he was thinking about her. If he was with her, most likely she would be frustrating him...and if she wasn't frustrating him he was thinking about how much he loved her.


	19. Chapter 19: Claim Happiness

She woke up to freshly picked daisies beside her. She smiled, picking them up as she sat up, he must've put some covers over her while she slept. Merle really was a sweet man. Seemed like yesterday she was kicking him in the dick and trying to kill him. She put on her clothes and headed to the shower. She brushed her teeth and proceeded to take a shower. She sighed, letting the warm water run down her body. She wondered how long this would all last...the safe sanctity of the prison, her and Merle's affair...Was it even an affair? She thought that attraction bound them together, but there was something more. Merle rarely talked about his feelings, but emotion would flow during sex or after...or when he was jealous.

He cuddled her so gently last night, like she was going to break. His words are brash and harsh, but his body language and actions said different. She hadn't known his whole story, but she wanted to. She wanted to know what made him tick...why he was the way he was. But in retrospect maybe none of that mattered. Maybe his past didn't matter, amidst all his prejudices and malevolent actions he was only a man. A simple man that hadn't known any form of love aside from his beloved baby brother.

But now he was a different man, an unyielding man...a protector. Maybe even a soul mate. What would she do without Merle's crazy ass running around?

"Hey, gal." She heard him say. She looked back at him and saw him in a white bath towel.

She gazed at him for a moment. "Hey..." She finally managed to say.

"Me and Daryl caught some mighty fine deer this mornin'," He said as he leaned against the stall. "Hurry before everybody goes back for thirds and fourths." He said with a light laugh.

She smiled.

"What?"

He seemed so much happier. "Nothing." She replied softly.

"Friendly did let Carrot Top and Company in, in case you were wondering."

Her eyes widened. It nearly slipped her mind. "What are they like?"

He shrugged. "Don't know, don't care." He said gruffly.

She laughed. "Don't tell me that you were being Mr. Sociable out there?" She teased.

He snorted. "Told carrot top that you're mine."

"What?," She asked with a huff. She paused, then shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Well you are," He proclaimed. "Aren't you?" He asked, batting his beautiful blue eyes at her. He was so handsome...and sweet. He attentively waited for her answer.

"Yes." She replied without thinking.

He bought her wet body to his, he caressed her. "I'll raise hell if anyone else touches you," He warned. He was so cute when he was all territorial of her. "You put me through too much already," He mused, hugging her tightly and kissing her on the cheek. He gazed at her intently, then releasing her. "Make sure that you eat somethin'."

She nodded, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Okay."

She watched as he walked back towards the cell block. Was Merle Dixon actually her boyfriend? She gushed inside her mind. Merle was rough, handsome and very cute at times. She could tell how much he cared for her. She could also feel how much she cared for him, and that scared her.

She stepped out of the shower, then drying off. Merle was changing, slowly but surely. She went back to her cell, seeing a plate of deer steak and freshly picked greens. For a profane man, he had great hands...in bed and in the kitchen. He could probably give her a run for her money with his culinary skills. She couldn't make something like deer steak. She changed into fresh clothes, a white tank top and a black mini skirt, along with her boots. She sat down on the bed, then digging into her food.

"Where does this man learn how to cook like this?" She asked herself, enjoying every morsel of food. She shrugged, then smiling at the thought of that big idiot. After finishing eating she made her way out towards the gate.

The group was gathered around Rick, conversing.

"Where is my run?" She inquired.

"Nowhere." Merle quickly said.

She rolled her eyes. Not this crap again. She grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him a few feet away from the group. "You told Rick not to assign me?!" She inquired, livid.

"It's for your own good," He chided. "You don't have no weapon neither!"

"We have guns!" She retorted.

He scoffed. "Everybody knows that that ain't your element," He replied. "Thats like takin' that crossbow from Daryl and puttin' a pistol in his hand...ain't gonna work."

As much as he did have a point, she still wanted to fight. She WAS a fighter...a damned good one too. Merle knew that for a fact, but still wouldn't let her go.

"I'm taking a pistol and going."

"No," Merle said, putting his foot down. "I want you here where it's safe."

She scowled, stomping off.

"I'm protecting you, whether you like it or not!," He yelled. "So go on!"

Daryl looked at Merle. "Well shit, ain't seen her that mad before."

"It's for her own good." Merle replied, folding his arms.

She sat at a table in the cafeteria, deeply hurt by Merle's actions. He made it seem like she couldn't do anything.

"What's eating you?" She heard someone ask. She looked across the room, seeing Abraham walking towards her.

"One name...Merle." She said with a huff.

He laughed. "Well, that's your boyfriend," He sat across from her. "He's an interesting guy."

"He treats me like I'm a baby," She said, rolling her eyes. "I feel more like an estranged daughter, in the fucked up sense."

He shrugged. "Well, that's how men keep their wives and girlfriends safe." He looked down at the ground.

"Oh my God...Abraham? Did you- -?"

"Wife and kids," He said with closed eyes. "If I was like him, they'd still be here."

She reached out and touched his hand. "It's not your fault." She comforted, remembering her own losses.

"Did you have a family too?" He asked, looking up and seeing her tensing face.

"Yes," She said, glad that she hadn't started crying. "My son and my boyfriend."

"I'm sorry," He said, patting her hand. "May as well make these people your family...seems like they are anyway."

She smiled. "Right, seems like we're all connected by this."

"Rick is trusting me, you know?"

She nodded.

"Because of you."

"I know," She sighed, then smiling. "You're my problem now."

He chuckled. "Well it means a lot that you vouched for complete strangers."

"I know people, that's why I'm still around," She looked back at him. "There's different types of survivors...and I sensed something good about you."

"Is it because of my mission?"

"Maybe..," She mused. "It made me feel hopeful that there's a way out of all this," She closed her eyes. "We all need hope in our lives."

Abraham smiled hopefully. "Right," He stood up. "I'll see you around, I'm going to check on Eugene and Rosita."

"Alright." She replied with a nod.

Merle had watched her from afar. The nerve of that woman, paying attention to Abraham and not him. Did there time together not mean anything? Well he was the one that treated her like a burden and a weakling. But he didn't count on her actually talking to Abraham. Shit. He was enraged and hurt...bitter even. She looked mighty fine too, body and all...more so now when she wasn't by his side. He was like a grown kid when it came to her.

Mini-skirts really suited her; and when she walked by him he could smell her scent. He could sense her seething anger too. That short amount of time that she hadn't talked to him seemed like weeks. When he saw her his heart beat a mile a minute, and so did his cock. He was always hard for her, that was no secret...literally and any other sense.

He didn't like that prick either, or his crew. But he really didn't like him with her.

Daryl watched his seething older brother from afar. He shook his head, then walking away. "Damn, my brother sure is dumb." He couldn't comprehend Merle's fucking logic to save his life. Staying away from a woman that he knew damn well that he was in love with and treating her like a pest...for the sake of protecting her? Merle was a pussy about some stuff, despite Daryl always being the butt of his brotherly jokes. Merle would never own up to anything, but that was just Merle.

He watched her so much that his eyes might've popped out of his head. She turned her head in his direction, sensing his gaze. She turned her head away from him, walking towards the dining hall. That's right, eat your heart out, Merle Dixon. He savored the glimpse of her ass that he happened to get. That hellcat knew what she was doing, switching her ass like that. He licked his lips. Fuck he missed her, sexually and otherwise. She was good at the silent treatment and it burned him up. Merle Dixon wouldn't be ignored.

Against his better judgement he ran after her, the noticeable tent in his pants leading the way.

"Hey!," He barked, finally catching up to her. "You avoidin' me?"

She folded her arms and looked away from him, acutely aware of the bulge in his pants.

"Come're," He growled, grabbing her and bringing her body to his. He let out a reluctant sigh of content. He snapped out of the brief trance, finally addressing her. "You and carrot-top are mighty snug, huh?"

"That's none of your business," She said, shutting her eyes as she tried to push away from him. His lean and muscular arms absorbed her protest. "You want to guard me?" She asked sharply. "Fine. Keep guarding me from far away. Far. Far. Away."

"Do you hate me yet?" He asked with a light chuckle.

"We're not lovers anymore so what does it matter either way?"

"What?!," He asked, enraged. "You breakin' up with me?!"

She narrowed her eyes. "You undermine me at every turn," She hissed. "The only time you take me seriously is when I'm sucking you off." She said with bite in her voice.

"You know that ain't fuckin' true!," He yelled. "I care about you and don't want you out there with them walkers, or them crazy sons-a-bitches in parts unknown!"

"I can handle myself!" She protested.

"I failed you once, and I ain't fuckin' doin' it again." He snarled, tightly holding her to him.

"This is about what happened in the next town over?"

"YES," He said with a strained voice. "So pardon me if I don't wanna turn you lose."

She pushed her hands against him, trying to break free.

He eyed her angrily. "You really wanna be away from me?"

"Yes."

The vein in Merle's neck pulsated, he fixed his mouth into a scowl. He pushed her against the wall and put his arm and prosthesis at both of her sides. "You think you can forget about ol' Merle?," He inquired with arrogance in his voice. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent. Her whole body shook against him. He flashed his feral smile as he noted his small victory. Damn he missed that. He missed her reactions. Even after not being with her for a few hours he missed her. "You think it'll be that easy?," He ran his prosthesis down her neck, exploring her breasts. She let out a small moan, then trying to push him away again. He was too strong, but so was her re-emerging desire for him. "Huh?," He taunted, then placing his hand on her thigh. He smoothly let his hand gravitate towards her pussy. She shut her eyes. "Open them pretty brown eyes for me," He cajoled, then smiling at her defiance when she hadn't done so. "Well fine, it don't matter no way." He teased, easing in for a deep, wanton kiss. He sealed her fate when he rubbed her welcoming pussy with his fingers. He cursed the sturdy fabric of her mini-skirt, but the effect was the same. She was hot against him.

"Get out of here, Dixon." She said, against his mouth, her voice faltering in its authority.

"I missed you." He growled, kissing her once more and letting his tongue plunder her unsuspecting mouth.

She clenched the fabric of his shirt, wanting his kiss to penetrate her mouth even deeper. She was growing increasingly weak for this man.

"Yeah, tell me you want it," He groaned, cupping her ass and grinding his erection against her. He licked his lips, flashing his feral grin. "You know you want it, sweetheart."

"You're an ass," She muttered. "But I can't get enough of you." She confessed. She let her hands explore his body, his chest and back...he knew that he was delicious and irresistible at this stage. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Did ol' Honest Abe touch you?" He inquired in apprehension. He hoped that he hadn't, or it would take more than a handcuff on a rooftop to keep him from gutting that carrot-top.

She tore her lips from him. "Screw you, Merle!" She said, slapping him.

Shit. He forgot how strong her slaps were, strangely he was turned on by that. "You're as feisty as ever," He said in amusement. "But I'll teach you that I'm the only one for you." He said ominously, putting his lips back to hers.

Her breath escaped her, she couldn't deny him.

"Let me have you agin," He demanded, pulling up her skirt. His voice was hoarse and hypnotic. "And I'll show ya," She shivered at the cool air hitting her bare ass. "Since when did you go panty-less round' here?" He inquired, massaging her with his fingers.

Her nostrils flared. "I can do whatever the hell I want." She retorted, pounding her fists against his chest, wanting to ignore her building pleasure.

He liked her spunk and hair-trigger temper as much as he adored her sweetness. "I could smell your fine ass every time you walked by," He inhaled her. "Bought back some mighty fine memories."

"Are you jealous of Abraham?" She teased, then tensing up under his touch.

He flinched at that question. "Fuck no I ain't," He spat. "But you're mine." He declared.

"Ever since what happened you undermine me," She challenged. "You gave no right to stake claim to me!" She exclaimed.

"It was because I wanted to protect you!" He yelled. "Don't you dare think for a hot damn minute that I wanted it like that," He undid the button of his pants. "Doesn't change the fact that I wanna jump your bones every time you cross my mind."

"I am your fucking equal!," She asserted. "Not a woman you can claim and keep on a shelf like a little porcelain doll!"

"Okay," He replied, seeing the determination in her eyes. "I get it." He said as he kissed her.

"You do?"

He nodded. "I'll protect you better when you're close to me then."

She smiled, then gasping, feeling him against her. "What are you- -?"

"Making up."

Make up sex in a heavily traveled area?! Merle fucking Dixon.

"Wait...," She whispered. "People walk through here!"

He smiled and licked his lips. "Ain't that the thrill of it?," He teased, unzipping his pants. "Risk is the spice of life, ain't it?"

She didn't want to submit to him, but she wanted to. Her inner muscles tightened as she watched as his cock sprung from his boxers. He kissed her deep and gently tugged at her dreads.

Without another word he mounted her. His aroused cock entered her welcoming pussy. She held him close, wanting to feel his searing heat penetrating her deep. His strokes were short and jagged, he licked his lips and groaned. Damn she felt good. He was a damn fool for alienating her the way he did. "You. Are. Mine," He was too excited and hot. He felt the pressure building inside of him already. "Ah, I might have to be a minute man today."

"And you think that I'm going to let you come without me being satisfied?" She asked, gripping his hips and slowing down his thrusts.

He exhaled deeply. "I'll make you a deal," He proposed. "I come now, and if you want more of me I'll make you come later on tonight," His pumps were growing more jagged by the minute. He made a sound of protest when she pushed back his hips, slowing down his thrusts. "Just like a woman," He muttered. "Always gotta get yours first," He teased, raking his nails against her ass. "But you know ol' Merle always takes care a you," He cajoled against her neck. He put her arms over her head, holding her wrists together with his large hand, while he kept her body pressed to his with his prosthesis. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll back off," He said as he continued. "Tell me to stop and I will." He assured.

She moaned aloud. "Merle...," She breathed. "Ah."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Don't stop!" She cried out.

"Ain't plannin' on it til you tell me to," He said back, releasing her wrists. He sighed in content as he felt her arms caress him once more.

As erotic as his possession of her was, he was an arrogant man. He knew exactly what she would do. She would go seeking him out like a female cat in heat, and it would be all over. Nothing was between her and Abraham...except conversation. But in Merle's warped mind he was in a pissing contest with him. Though it was hot to see Merle all primitive and aggressive over her. She couldn't deny him...he was too sexy and hot.

He kissed her neck as he buried himself within her giving body. "I'll take care a you," He cajoled. "Fuck yeah I will, sweetheart," He said hoarsely against her neck. He could feel her tense up around him, she was as close as he was. "I'm close- -"!

"Yeah." She moaned, grinding her hips with him. The friction and contact was so primal and hot Merle began losing it. His mind went still and his body went numb as he felt his crushing orgasm shoot through him. She breathed heavily, feeling her own. His hips stilled as he filled her with his hot man juice, and he cursed as he felt her delicious walls suck him dry. Her walls spasmed and tightened against him until the end of her nirvana.

He looked up at her, they were both sweaty and exhausted; but equally as satisfied. "Told you I'd take care a you." He said triumphantly. She smiled and hugged him tight. He was blushing. He didn't bat an eye during sex, but hugs and other affectionate gestures were fairly new to him. He kissed her gently on the lips as he zipped up his pants. He enjoyed himself too much with this woman, and was way too happy. How did he deserve this?

She pulled her skirt down and looked up at him with her entrancing eyes.

"Still mad at me?" He asked blankly, looking back at her.

She smiled, seeing how much Merle actually doted on her. "No."

He smiled back at her, caressing her face and kissing her once more. "I wanna see you later if you aren't busy." Enough was enough. He was tired of flip-flopping and being without her. Tonight was the night that he'd throw aside all of his insecurities. It could be the difference of himself or another man having her, and he'd be damned if he'd let another man have her.

"Hmmm...," She mused. "I think I can pencil you in. After Abraham." She teased.

"Girl, don't fuck with me like that," He warned with a half smile. "I was so riled up- -"

"Because you didn't want another man to have me." She said playfully, rubbing her finger up and down his chest.

"Not just that," He corrected, smoothing his hand down her face. "But I suppose that put everything in perspective for me." Was denying her and staying away from her for the sake of her safety worth his suffering? He could actually protect her, but he would be too soft. He was so angry when she was shot, but he was mostly scared. He saw her fall right in front of his eyes. He had felt anguish and helplessness on the rooftop in Altanta, but it was nothing compared to nearly losing Michonne. As cocky as Merle Dixon was, his confidence was truly crippled as a man. But that fact that she would still see him gave him hope.

"Meaning?" She replied, listening attentively.

"I gotta tell things like it is...and not get all tongue-tied." He said.

She smiled. "Where do you want to meet then?"

"The gardens," He quickly said before he pussied out. "At midnight."

She wondered why he wanted to meet so late, but he figured it was to make sure they got enough time alone. "Alright, guess I should go."

"I kind of don't want you to." He muttered, grabbing her hand. She looked back at her, seeing the look in his eyes. He was like a small pup staring at his owner, his eyes were so damn cute this time around. He channeled so much emotion through his eyes, she had never seen that before. He was probably unaware of the power that his eyes had over her.

"Well, wear a condom next time so I don't have to clean up." She playfully chided.

His face turned beat red. "Oh, right..." He released her hand.

She laughed at his absent-mindedness and kissed the side of his face. He watched her make her way back to the cell block.

Later that night...

Merle paced the gates that bordered the prison, occassionally killing a few walkers trying to claw their way into the fence. However, walker extermination wasn't Merle's reason for his solitude. He was desperate to find the right words to say to her. Sure, he had a big ego and a smart mouth...but that didn't necessarily translate into success in the romance department. It was only about 10:00pm or so, but he needed time to plan out the perfect phrase.

He stared into the air. "Girl. I lo-," He froze before the "L" word could leave his mouth. Big bad Merle was petrified of that word. "Listen up, woman! I-," He paused. "I want you to be my...girlfriend," He shook his head. Technically she already was his girlfriend...er...estranged girlfriend, courtesy of his idiocy. "Shit...that ain't right," He muttered. "That ain't romantic at all." He sighed. "The fuck do I say?" He froze up, after hearing a laugh.

Daryl was leaning against the door of the watchtower, his crossbow laying beside his feet. "So whatchu' gonna say to her?"

He sighed. "Shit, I don't know ," He said, scratching his head. "I ain't never been- -," He paused. "Why the fuck am I talkin' to you about this?"

Daryl shook his head. "Because I'm your brother, you dumb fuck," He grunted. "Thought we were closer than that."

He snorted, putting his hand on his hip. "Alright, baby brother," He mused. "Tell me what to do."

"Bout' what?"

"I don't know," He said with a huff. "but I don't wanna be fittin' to lose her again."

Daryl peered at him. "You're really deep in with her, huh?"

"I ain't been no good with feelins and all that shit," He muttered. "But I guess...uh...I mean-"

Daryl smirked. "You gonna ask her to marry you?"

Merle's face turned bright red. "I ain't the marrying type," He quickly said. "But what would happen if I did marry her? Happy anniversary, sweetheart...I gotta leave now to kill some walkers?"

"Don't matter," Daryl said with a shrug. "When else will you have the chance?"

"Shit, baby brother," He teased. "Didn't know you were such a romantic."

"Don't be pussying out now." He warned.

"Jesus, Daryl, I just wanna tell her that I love her...," He muttered under his breath. "I aint tryin' to make her an honest woman yet." He joked. In all actuality he was the one that would be made honest. Marriage for a man like Merle would be nothing short of a disaster. She didn't deserve that.

"Ah," Daryl said with a laugh. "Can't really imagine you married anyways."

"Well shit, I can't imagine you married neither!," Merle retorted with a crooked smile. "But maybe she'll be a Nubian goddess like mine!," He paused. "Scratch that, no woman is like my African Princess." He said smugly, unaware of his gushing.

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe."

"Marriage is a big commitment, Merle." He heard Rick say as he walked towards them.

He turned his head from his direction, grumpily shoving his hand in his pocket. "What do you want, Friendly?"

"Chill man," Daryl mediated. "He's just tryin' to be friendly and whatnot."

Merle cracked a sarcastic smile. "Officer Friendly is being friendly." He said with a hoarse laugh.

Rick smirked, sitting down a knapsack.

"That what I asked for? " Daryl asked, raising his brow.

Rick nodded. "Sure is."

Merle looked at them cluelessly, soon seeing Glenn, Hershel and Abraham...of all people. He laughed hysterically. "What is this? Brotherhood of the travelin' walker killers?"

Daryl laughed.

"And what's carrot-top doin' here?!" He asked in annoyance.

"Listen man, he don't want your woman!" Daryl quickly said.

"Can we have a truce or not?," Abraham asked gruffly. "I'm friendly with her, that's it," He chuckled. "Black women ain't exactly my muse."

Merle snorted. "Hell, I think everybody will tell you that I wasn't keen on no non-white person." He mentioned with a laugh.

"Don't I know it." Glenn joked.

Merle looked at him and smirked, he pat him on the shoulder. "You're alright for a- -," He paused. "You're alright, kid."

Glenn looked at him in surprise. "Th-thanks." Poor Glenn could've had a heart attack right on the spot. Merle Dixon, the self-proclaimed racist, redneck was changing right in front of his eyes.

Abraham smiled to himself. As rag-tag and different as these people were, they were truly unified when it counted.

Merle eyed him in apprehension. "You were in the military like me," He mused. "Despite my short serve," He mentioned with a laugh. "You're a brother." He reached out his hand. Abraham tightly gripped his hand, giving him a firm handshake. Life was too short to hold grudges, they needed every friend they could get.

"Drink up," Abraham urged, reaching into Rick's bag and pulling out a beer. He tossed it to Merle. "It's the best me and Rick could find."

After catching the beer, he looked at Hershel. "You ain't a drinkin' man, old timer." Merle could tell that he once was, he could see it in the way he looked at the can of beer.

"I used to be," He replied, his voice dulling. "Not anymore," He reached into Rick's bag and pulled out a bottle of sparkling apple cider. "But I'll toast this way."

Merle chuckled.

"You seem happier," Rick mused. "It's her, isn't it?"

Merle looked away, wanting to hide his reddening face. Why did SHE have to be the topic of men's night? "She's...special, I guess..."

Daryl laughed. "Ol' Merle is in love." He teased, patting him on the back.

"Shut up, damn it." He snarled, still hearing Daryl's laughter.

Hershel walked a few feet away and gestured Merle to follow him. Merle did so, eying the aging man curiously.

"It's okay to love her," Hershel assured. "It's a beautiful thing, especially in a world like this."

Merle chuckled. "Why are you even talking to me?," He snorted. "I'm the one that kidnapped your daughter and beat the shit out of her boyfriend."

Hershel shut his eyes and exhaled deeply. "I know, but...forgiveness is a miraculous thing."

"Right," Merle sneered. "Forgiveness." Forgiveness was as elusive to him as love was.

"Have you forgiven yourself for how you have treated people?" He asked.

Merle was surprised by that question. "I've forgiven myself about most people," He quickly said. "But I guess I have a loose end that I'm dealing with."

"You're prejudiced, aren't you?"

He sighed. "Yeah," He paused. "I mean...I thought I was," He corrected himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But since her...I..."

Hershel smiled. "Love has no race or creed."

"Love?," Merle asked with a chuckle. "That word is...," He sighed. "That word ain't mine to use."

"I see how you interact with her, how you look at her-"

"The word shouldn't leave a man like me," He scoffed. "It ain't mine."

Hershel tightly gripped his shoulders. "Don't let her slip through your fingers," He urged. "From what I've heard, you've come a long way," He went on. "You do deserve happiness, you claim it."

He sighed. "I'm meeting her here tonight at midnight."

"Well think about what I said," Hershel said with a smile, patting his back. "Now, let's have a quick drink, just us gentleman."

The old man was right, he needed to claim happiness. " Alright." He finally said, making his way back to the group.

**Thank you all for all the emails and comments so far! I had no idea how well received this fanfic would be! This is my longest chapter yet. Needless to say, the editing was a bit tedious and grueling. So please pardon any minor grammatical errors that I may have missed. After re-reading it 10 or 15 times in the past couple of days my eyes feel like they're going to explode haha! Im just pretty excited to get this chapter posted for you guys! Thanks again!**


	20. Chapter 20: Love under the stars

After the brief pow-wow, all of the men had retired for the night. Merle stood there for a moment, in silence. He then made his way to the gardens. He was nervous, but Hershel was right. He needed to claim his happiness, to let himself love her freely. He'd love to be able to do that. He faintly wondered if she felt the same way about him. He was crude and rough around the edges, but tonight he wanted to show her that he could be a gentleman. Picking flowers and making her breakfast was elementary...he needed more. But what? Would words and small gestures like that mean anything? Merle was a strong man, but he was plagued with secret inadequacies.

He arrived at the gardens, strangely at peace. He felt like a different man. He released all of his prejudices and grudges, only wanting to have emotion and feelings for HER. The wind was still and he could hear nature at its finest, small birds and frogs clamoring about. The nature boy in him reveled in the simple things like that.

He heard movement, quickly whirling around. It was Michonne standing a few feet away, looking back at him. His smile was a mile wide as he approached her, taking her hand into his. He gazed at her for a minute, the words not flowing out like he wanted. "Michonne." He breathed.

Her eyes widened. He said her name. Holy shit.

"Michonne..." He cajoled, his southern drawl making another appearance. She blushed. He had never said her name before. "I really care about you." He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to him. Was she dead? Or intoxicated? First he said her name, then said the word "care" in the same sentence.

She nearly fainted right then and there. He said her name, and his voice was so sweet and tender. "You...You said my name." She said with widening eyes.

"Yeah, I did," He proclaimed, kissing her gently on the lips. "That a problem for you, gal?" He asked with a passing smile.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked, happy but unnerved by this side of Merle.

"You did," He said blankly, staring at her with his complex blue eyes as he kept a firm hold on her. "You've been on my happy ass since that time in the forest," He went on. "Not a thought went by without you in it."

She was stunned at the candidness of his feelings.

He laughed. "No, you ain't dreamin'...," He replied, reading her dumbstruck expression. "And you ain't dead neither." He realized that he wanted to tell her the unthinkable. The words he could never verbalize to her before. Fuck she was beautiful, even when she was giving him the glare of death or sassing him. He desperately wanted to love her freely, he wouldn't care if she killed him 10 times over. He was a hopeless sap for her. He might be at risk of being the proverbial Icarus, but he wanted to be with her. He saw what denying would do for the both of them. He wanted to show her how much he cared, in his own way. He wanted to show her that he was different."Michonne," He said again. "My African Queen." He would do anything for her.

Hearing Merle and his southern drawl say her name made her melt. It also made her wet and needy for his touch. She let him take the lead. He held her against him, kissing her. The kiss was different, not of a jagged lust, but a tender gesture. Merle was still Merle, but he was different, she couldn't place it. But she knew that she wanted to give herself to him again, and not just physically. She was madly in love with this man, but perhaps her heart had known longer than her mind did. "Merle?"

His palm began to sweat, his mouth dried, and a discreet layer of sweat began to form on his face. Merle fucking Dixon was sweating and shaking in his boots because of a lone Ebony beauty. Never in a million years would he have thought that he'd fall for her like this.

She looked into his eyes, seeing them flicker. "Merle?" She repeated.

He sighed. "You know I ain't good with words, right?"

"Yes, I know this." She replied with a light laugh.

"I...I'm," He paused. "A simple man. A man with a fucked up past that I ain't proud of," He continued. He looked at her, she was listening attentively. "I was a liar, a cheat...a drug dealer," He sighed. "I was also the most prejudiced son-um-bitch on this side of Georgia. And I guess that was my identity for a very long time," He squeezed her hand tightly and kissed it. "That's why I was a bastard to you at first, but...truth is I love you. I have for a long while now-" He stopped himself from rambling on any further, surveying her reaction.

She was smiling.

"I love you so fuckin' much," He confessed. "I was scared of losing you that time...I just want to protect you. But lockin' you away and makin' you hate me ain't the way," He closed his eyes. "I want to protect you, not cause' you ain't a good fighter. You are, but all I wanna do is have you by my side," He huffed. "There you go. My feelings."

"Open your eyes." She demanded.

"What?"

"Open your eyes," She repeated. "I want to see them."

He did so.

"They're beautiful." She mused, rubbing her hand against his face.

"Michonne," He said, his voice gentle. "Do you love me back?" She saw the vulnerability in his eyes. His heart was truly in her hands. She had the power, not him.

"I do love you, Merle," She said to him, kissing him gently on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Wanting to be by my side." She answered.

He embraced her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Merle." She said, rubbing his back and kissing him.

"I'm not a wuss or anything though." He mentioned, releasing her.

"Oh Merle," She said in amusement, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't think you're a wuss. Never have."

He blushed. She didn't mind his feelings. She didn't bust his balls or crush his heart. She was everything and more. "Sharing feelings is such a turn on for me actually." She said with a playful wink.

He raised his brow. "Oh really? Tell me more." He said with a smirk, grabbing her and pulling her to him.

She laughed. "You're so crazy!"

He nuzzled against her. "Just for you." He was like putty in her hands and he didn't care.

"Mr. Romantic..." She said in approval.

"Lay in the grass with me, darlin'." He urged, sitting on the grass and looking at the starry sky.

She sat down in the cool grass, then laying beside him.

"I think this is kinda romantic-like," He said, staring up at the spacious sky. He looked at her. "I'm tryin'." He was still a bit unsure of himself.

She sighed in content. "You're succeeding," He was glad that the night hid his blushing face. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "You're good for me, Dixon."

"Michonne." He breathed longingly, his southern drawl following his lead.

She felt a searing hotness amidst the cool night air. It was from her yearning body, his whole persona screamed sex and she wanted to oblige. She batted her eyes at him. "Yes?"

"I wanna to make love to you." He said, looking back at her. His voice and tone were everything. She was a sucker for his southern drawl but him chiming sensual and sweet words like that aroused her.

She sat up and kissed him, giving him the solicited signal. She desperately wanted to know what it was like to make love with Merle Dixon. Raunchy, animal sex was hot and always amazing. But she wanted to see his gentle side, his loving side. In a matter of seconds their clothes were off and he was on top of her. He gently kissed her forehead, lips, chest and each breast. His lips felt like a feather against her silky skin; from head to toe he worshiped this woman, loved her. He explored her body with his hand, he loved how soft and warm her body was against his. He kissed her softly as he continued touching her. Soft kisses and caresses were the only acts that he wanted to serenade her with. He hadn't made love before, but he wanted to try.

"I ain't never made love before," He muttered against her mouth. "But I wanna do it with you."

Damn he was so cute. That voice and those dazzling blue eyes. As infuriating as he was in the beginning, he made up with cuteness.

"Yes." She whispered against him, her voice alluring to his body and ears. She rolled on top of him, gently kissing his heaving chest, then stomach. She met his mouth once more, giving him a deep kiss as she sat on his hard cock. She moaned against his mouth as she felt his girth stretching her once more. It was different this time. His heat was stronger and so was hers, their bodies were scorching on top of one another.

She moved her body against his. She slowly began riding him, back and forth, up and down in fluid movements. She felt him at the core of her being. She sighed in content as she felt him enter her, in and out as a result of the relentless rhythm of her hips. He was always amazing, his body and sex game was always up to par too. The sex just clicked for them, even the first time. He felt her and all of her womanly glory. He revered it. Loved it. The sex felt different. She couldn't place it. Maybe it was the look in his eyes as he watched her move up and down on him, or maybe it was just their feelings. She arched her back, wanting him deeper inside her. She grinded her hips down on his and threw back her head.

"Shit you're beautiful." He fawned, dazzled by every movement and sound that she made.

She exhaled in satisfaction as she felt his cock flex and twitch inside of her. He watched every tantalizing move that she made, he ran his stump down her chest and to her stomach; then reversing his touch. He then teased her nipples with his rough flesh as he sat up to meet her movements. She wanted to make love to him until she got her satisfaction, and until he got his. Slow felt so good, she wanted to keep the sensual rhythm going until they both came.

She made a sharp sound of pleasure. His cock was perfect, his body was perfect...and his being was perfectly imperfect.

He groaned, caressing her back with his hand. "Michonne," He cajoled, bringing her body to his. They were chest-to-chest as she continued riding him. Most likely Merle would have grass-burn on his ass but he didn't care as long as he was with her. "I want you so damn bad." He said, looking at her with his bedroom eyes. Without saying another word he rolled back on top of her, kissing her as her entered her. He moved inside her slow and delicately, the wonderful sensation of her liquid heat stronger than ever. She writhed against him, savoring his gentle touches. She moaned as he continued thrusting in her slow as he gently kissed her neck. His strokes were slow, strong and deliberate. He felt different. He showered her with kisses and thrust his hand in her dreads.

The sheer gentleness and care had her worked up like nothing before. She arched her back, wrapping her arms around him. She pressed her lips to his. "I love you."

"I love you too." He said against her. Their connection was everything and more. It wasn't just a physical attraction anymore, it was about feelings and love for one another.

She loved this man so much.

He sped up his thrusts, keeping his eyes in hers. His breath quickened, he was close. He slowed things down once more. He continued looking into her eyes as he made love to her. Light kisses and caressing accompanied his movements. He wanted her to feel special, to know that she is the only one that he'll ever want for the rest of his life. She caressed his back as he got his fill of her body.

She licked her chapped lips. "Mmmm..."

"Yeah." He growled against her neck. Seemed like he couldn't get enough of her and her body. She was approaching the point of no return. She caressed him tight, lightly digging her nails into his back as she wrapped her legs around him. Her mind wandered, she hadn't made love or been made love to like this before. They were surrounded by nature, loving each other how nature intended for a man and woman to love. The night was perfect. Making love like this and getting pregnant crossed her mind. For another split second she wished it could be. As unattainable and selfish as that thought was. She disregarded the thought, focusing on her impending orgasm. He sped up his thrusts once more, wanting to get her where she wanted to be.

She moaned against his ear, feeling her inner muscles tighten and release. She kept her eyes fixed to his during her release. Their lovemaking was so sensual and hot. She desperately wanted to see his eyes when he exploded inside of her, she wanted to see that and feel him filling her with his hot cum. He wasted no time thrusting harder and faster, feeling the same irresistible pressure building at the base of his cock. He couldn't hold back anymore, he thrusted furiously into her. He put his mouth to hers for a brief moment, then having his eyes meet hers once more. After one last thrust he was there. He held her body in place as his spasming cock released all of his cum, his eyes didn't blink or depart from hers. He instinctively moved in her once more, wanting to fill her completely. It had to be instinct or an ill fated attempt to get her pregnant.

He looked down at her for a moment, giving her a deep kiss on the lips. "How was that?" He asked hopefully.

"Amazing." She whispered, kissing him back.

He rolled off of her, then bringing her body to his. Not only was he cute, but he was cuddly. "Never did it outside before." He said out of the blue.

She laughed. "Me neither," She rubbed her sore behind. "This grass is a killer though."

He flashed her his gorgeous eyes. "Want me to kiss it for you?" He asked jokingly.

"Yes, Merle Dixon," She replied sweetly. "I've wanted to tell you to kiss my ass ever since we first met." That was certainly the truth.

He chuckled. "Well, the fuck if I didn't want to kiss it," He looked at her, with admiration twinkling in his eyes. He leaned over and kissed her, letting his lips linger. "What am I gonna do with you?"

She shrugged, throwing her arms around him.

"We should get dressed and go back to the cell," He mentioned. "I like bein' outdoors though."

"This was very romantic...," She gushed. "Making love under the stars." She sat up and looked down at him.

He sat up and put on his clothes, then handing her hers. "Hope we can keep doin' it." They walked back into the prison, finally reaching their cell. They both stripped themselves of their clothes and got in bed. Merle pulled the covers over them and snuggled against her, gently kissing her on the lips. "Goodnight, sugar tits."

She laughed. "You are something," She ran her hand down his face. "Goodnight."


End file.
